Tales From The Anthill
by DrAmishMD
Summary: A collection of one-off short chapters that focus on minor events throughout the storyline of XCOM: RWBY Within. Written for my own entertainment and to keep my writing skills sharp while I prepare for the eventual sequel to RWBY Within.
1. Shen's Visitor

A/N: Hello everyone. This is the first chapter in a little side project I've decided to start working on. I'm still not ready to begin plotting/writing the sequel to RWBY Within, but the... ah... _events_ of the Season 3 finale have left me with an itch to write. So I thought a good solution would be to write these little drabbles every now and then, covering little snippets of time from RWBY Within that was either not important enough to include in the main narrative or related to something I'd like to retroactively address. This first chapter is a little of both: I always enjoy writing interactions between Ruby and Shen, but a lot of people have asked me why I thought it was okay to let XCOM just agree to signing up team RWBY as operatives in a brutal war without question. This chapter doesn't cover _how_ Ruby managed to convince Bradford, but rather _why_ she wanted to do so.

Another thing: I have a few ideas for future drabbles lined up, but they will be on temporary hold while I work on a submission for /r/rwby's March MonCon. The character and theme this month are 'Pyrrha' and 'Happy Endings,' and this is something I could seriously use in my life right now. So that'll have its own story submission sometime later this month, and then I'll get back to mini-stories for Tales From The Anthill. Eventually, I'll start to formally plan for a sequel, and I'll be sure to let you know when that happens. Until then... enjoy.

* * *

Dr. Raymond Shen adhered to a very particular, very strict lunchtime schedule. At 11:55, he would begin to wind down whatever project had occupied his morning (or he would find someone to pass it off to) so that at exactly noon, the Chief Engineer could retire to his private office. Everyone down in Engineering knew of this ritual, and nobody voiced any concerns about Dr. Shen prioritizing his own lunch over whatever job came down the pipe from Bradford. After all, the elderly engineer definitely produced results, and he had a reputation for staying late on the manufacturing floor if a rush job needed to be completed _now_. If all it took to keep him healthy and happy was to lock himself away in his office for an hour, then everyone else in the skunkworks division had no problems accommodating their fearless leader.

Indeed, Dr. Shen considered his lunchtime in solitude to be a vital component of his daily routine. With the noises of Engineering muffled by his sound-proofed office, Shen could peacefully enjoy a carefully prepared meal and a cup of jasmine tea. From there, he could marshal his thoughts and rest his mind, allowing his thoughts to turn to his family, places he would like to visit after the war, or even the occasional side project brought to him by Dr. Vahlen. Whether or not his thoughts turned to business or pleasure, the silence allowed him to do so in a stress-free manner while he mentally rejuvenated himself for the rest of the day's work. For a man who got up at 5 am and often didn't catch any shuteye until 9 pm, he considered this one guilty pleasure of the day to be a sacred respite, the proverbial eye of the daily storm that he called a job at XCOM.

So it was with great surprise (and only a small amount of annoyance) when Dr. Shen found himself sitting across from one Ruby Rose as she unpacked the ready-made meal she apparently brought down from the mess hall. Within seconds, she tore into her food with a ferocity that the Chief Engineer hadn't seen since his young daughter discovered she had a taste for sushi. By the time Shen had finished carefully setting out all the components of his own meal and had his first sip of tea, XCOM's youngest guest was already finished with her main course and moving on to the trio of cookies that she brought with her as a dessert.

"How can you enjoy your food if you inhale it like that?" Dr. Shen asked as he took his first bite of grilled chicken.

Ruby looked up, crumbs sticking to her lips as she devoured her third cookie, "What do you mean? It tasted great!"

"And now it's gone. I'm sure the cook up in the mess hall put a lot of effort into making that pasta you brought in here, and you only gave it a minute of attention before the entire thing came to rest in your stomach." He took another, carefully measured bit of chicken and rice, letting the flavors and textures roll across his tongue before he washed it down with a sip of tea. He watched as Ruby tried to understand Shen's comment.

"But... it still tasted good!" Ruby repeated, "I had a big ol' box of goodness, and I enjoyed every second of it! Isn't that what matters?"

Shen's counterargument paused at the tip of his tongue as he considered whether this was a battle worth fighting or not. Deciding to spare himself the effort, the engineer steered the conversation in a different direction, "So... Miss Rose, isn't it? What brings you to my office?"

Ruby shrugged, "My teammates are busy doing their own things, and I was hungry, and I remembered how cool this place was, and then I saw you head into your office, and then I thought you'd be a nice person to talk to while I eat!"

The elderly engineer suppressed a small sigh. With her mouth (and thoughts) moving a mile a minute, Ruby reminded Dr. Shen of his little Lily. In that moment, Shen realized that trying to stay annoyed at his unexpected guest would be a monumental task in and of itself, and so he decided that accepting her presence during his sacred lunch hour was a preferable option over kicking her out. He took another bite of his food while Ruby watched with interest.

"I didn't see anything like that available in the mess hall. Where did you get it?" She asked.

"I made it." Shen answered, a small amount of pride leaking into his voice, "I have a well-known habit of stopping by the kitchen in my free hours to prep meals for myself. You'd be surprised how accommodating the kitchen staff is when the one asking for favors is the man responsible for keeping their equipment in working order."

"Whoa... I wish I knew how to make food like you. It smells so good..." She whispered, her eyes glazing over as she continued to stare at the food.

At that moment, Raymond Shen made a decision. Reminding himself that his first impression of this young woman was rather positive, he mentally tossed out any annoyance he still harbored regarding her intrusion. Ruby meant no disrespect by her presence, and seemed genuinely interested in Dr. Shen and his engineering team. Even though she volunteered for field duty with Bradford's crew, the Chief Engineer had a sneaking suspicion that he'd be seeing a lot more of her down here in the future. With a smile, he said, "You can. Making a good meal requires two things: practice and discipline. Not so different from field-stripping a rifle, when you think about it. I could teach you a few of my recipes if you'd like. It never hurts to have a helping hand in the kitchen, and then you'd have some nice food to look forward to after a day of training or a field op."

Ruby's eyes went wide at the offer, "You mean it? That sounds amazing! I'll try my best to pay attention and not let you down, but it might take a while for me to get the hang of this whole cooking thing."

"Of course. Any skill worth learning takes time to master." Dr. Shen picked up his cup and realized it was empty. He poured out another serving for himself before glancing over at his new friend, "Do you enjoy tea, Miss Rose?"

"Weeeeeelllllll, tea is more of Blake's thing, to be honest." Ruby admitted, "But it would be rude of me to turn down something I've never tried before!"

Shen nodded and poured out a small serving before passing it to Ruby. He watched with interest as she took a sip, then frowned slightly when she started choking. With a red face and cough-induced tears running down her cheeks, Ruby flashed Dr. Shen an apologetic smile.

"Definitely more of Blake's thing." She said before passing the cup back to the Chief Engineer, "Though I'm glad I tried it."

Shen nodded, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence as the engineer continued to eat his food while Ruby let her eyes wander around the room. She noted that, even though he had access to a very well-equipped manufacturing floor down below, Dr. Shen kept a personal work bench up in his office. A minor detail, but one that Ruby could respect. As an aficionado of the engineering arts herself, she knew the value in having a private workspace where one could just tinker away in peace.

"So why did you do it?"

The old man's question snapped Ruby out of her musings, and she turned to face her host once more, "I'm sorry?"

"Why did you do it? Volunteer for operative duty, that is."

Ruby blinked, as if confused by the question, "Why not? It's a chance to do the right thing and gain valuable experience in the process."

Shen sighed. He'd seen so many rookies head out to their first mission all cocky and gung-ho, only to return with a broken spirit and that unmistakable Thousand-Yard Stare, "It's also chance to get yourself killed, Miss Rose. I know that you and your friends have trained for most of your lives as warriors. It's plain to see from your weapons alone that you are well-equipped to face danger. But many of the men and women of XCOM have spent more time training to fight than you have been alive, my friend. No amount of training will stop death's swift embrace when a Thin Man catches you unaware and scores a lucky shot between your eyes."

Ruby's bright demeanor immediately dampened at Shen's words, yet he knew the young woman needed to hear them, "This is a war that you have no stake in, a war on a planet completely removed from your own. Why risk your lives and fight when you have conflicts at home waiting for you? You could even help in other ways. I'd never turn away capable help, and you are obviously capable. Why risk your life on the battlefield?"

Shen watched as Ruby chewed on the question. He knew that Bradford harbored similar concerns about fielding XCOM's newest guests on Strike operations, but the girls were adamant that the Central Officer give them the chance to prove their worth. Perhaps hearing it from a friendly old man would be enough to help the huntresses realize the folly in their decision.

"Because I must."

... Or not.

"Oh?" Shen asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his eyes, "And why is that?"

"Because helping people who are in danger is the core of who I am." Ruby answered, "Huntresses are often called upon by their nation to assist remote towns and villages in far-off lands, regions that they have no personal attachment to, and they never say no. Because the moment they do, where is the line drawn? At what point do they finally say 'this is close enough to home to be worth fighting for.' And if the world beyond that boundary falls to ruin due to their inaction, who do they have to blame but themselves? The people of those villages have lives that matter, friends and family that care about them. Just because I don't know who they are doesn't mean it's right for me to judge whether or not they are worth fighting for."

"But someone else can fight for them instead." Shen argued, "Someone who has a vested interest in the survival of their comrades, who will fight tooth-and-nail to protect them. Their personal stake in the battle would allow these people to fight with the zeal of ten men who are otherwise only there because of their orders."

Ruby nodded, "It's a fair point, sir, and one I've considered myself in the past. However, I have a story that might help you understand my reasons a little better. I once saw a small flyer designed to convince young men and women to join combat schools and become hunters and huntresses to fight off the Grimm. All my friends thought it was stupid, but it stuck with me, and I remember the four phrases to this very day: 'First the Grimm came for Mistral, and I did not fight - for I was not Mistrali. Then they came for Vacuo, and I did not fight - for I was not Vacuan. Then they came for Atlas, and I did not fight - for I was not Atlesian. Then they came for Vale - and there was no one left to fight for me.' "

Dr. Shen stared at Ruby. For someone so young, the quote was surprisingly deep. Ruby took his silence as permission to continue, "I'd be a fool to pretend the danger in this war is nonexistent. But I'd be a greater fool to pretend that the only fight worth fighting is the one that's close to home. Not only is it right, but it's my life's calling."

"It sounds like you haven't experienced war yet. Not truly." Shen said, still not completely convinced.

"You're right," Ruby admitted, "I haven't. But given the life path I've chosen, I will have to some day. Despite what my sister may think, I have a pretty good idea what the life of a huntress holds in store for me. And if the horrors of battle do break me? Well, then maybe it's better to get it over with now and learn to build myself back up with the help of people like you, Mr. Bradford. and... and Dr. Vahlen." She finished with a mumble. Shen couldn't help but chuckle, given that the guests had only met the Chief Scientist twice and were already hesitant to bring up her name in conversation.

After a moment to recover from the brief comic relief, Dr. Shen sighed. He'd apparently have to accept the fact that Ruby was dead set on fighting in this war, "Then I suppose it will be my duty to provide you with the equipment necessary to keep you and your friends safe while you're here." He finished his second cup of tea and went about pouring himself another, "It's an honorable thing you're doing, Miss Rose. Foolish, in my opinion... but honorable nonetheless."

She offered a smile at the Chief Engineer, "And who knows? Maybe after we win this war together, you and Mr. Bradford will help us with our problems."

Before Dr. Shen could answer, the intercom speakers carried the Central Officer's voice into the room: _Strike Eight, please report to the training facilities._

Shen glanced up at the speaker before turning back to Ruby with a smile, "Well, I suppose it was a good idea for you to wolf your food down after all. You better run along if you don't want to keep Bradford waiting. Oh, and Ruby?"

The young huntress stopped at the door and looked back when the Chief Engineer called her name. He hesitated for a moment before finally adding, "I always have my lunch hour from noon until one. Feel free to stop by if you find yourself with some free time on your hands."

Ruby grinned, "Count on it."


	2. Grecian Holiday

A/N: So I was convinced to fold my March MonCon entry into this new Tales from the Anthill series. If you're new to my XCOM AU, don't worry: this one-shot is almost entirely about Pyrrha and Jaune enjoying themselves in Greece, with only a few references to XCOM: RWBY Within. All you really need to know is that the alien invasion is over (thanks in no small part to the contributions of Teams RWBY and JNPR) and the two student teams now have the opportunity to travel around the earth doing touristy things while the researchers at XCOM find a way to get them back to Remnant.

On a different note, if you've never heard of the 'Sirtaki' dance, or you've never heard of 'Zorba the Greek,' take a moment to search for the latter on Youtube and find a 3-minute black and white video of two guys dancing on the beach. When it becomes relevant in the chapter, it might be a good idea to spend a minute or two watching the clip so you have an easier time visualizing what's going on.

Enjoy!

* * *

 _ **HORF!**_

Jaune calmly sat on the bed in his cabin, feeling the boat gently sway while he continued to read the tourist's guide to the Greek Isles. According to the ship's captain, their next stop would be the island of Mykonos. A popular little stop with a quaint town, friendly locals, and famous windmills that take advantage of the region's the breezy climate.

 _ **BLERG!**_

While he definitely enjoyed the visit to Santorini, Jaune felt that it was a little too... commercialized. It made sense, though: the fact that everyone back at XCOM told him, "You _have_ to visit Santorini," told Jaune all he needed to know. Everyone knows about it, so everyone visits. And because everyone visits, Santorini caters heavily to the tourists. Not that he had anything against that, but Jaune wanted to experience something that felt a little more... authentic.

 _ **GUKHGH!**_

"Is everything alright in there?" Jaune called out while he browsed through the pages of his little book.

"Everything is - _ **BLORF**_ \- just peachy, Jaune." He heard his partner weakly answer from the cabin's bathroom, "Thanks for asking."

Jaune let out a quiet sigh, "Anything I can do to help? I dunno... hold your hair or something?"

" _Absolutely_ - _ **BLECH**_ \- _not!_ "

"Okay, okay!" Jaune said in a defensive tone, "I'll just sit here and read some more."

"You... you do that."

Jaune would be lying if he didn't admit that the irony of the situation amused him. After putting up with all the teasing from RWBY and JNPR about his airsickness, who could've imagined that his partner suffered from a weak stomach while sailing the high seas? Still, he felt bad for Pyrrha. Unlike the rest of their friends, she never joked about his tenuous relationship with the Bullhead. So, just as she would always do her best to ease his discomfort during air rides, Jaune wanted to return the favor while they toured the Aegean Sea.

The first half of their trip, the bit where they traveled across the Greek mainland, had been wonderful. They spent hours up on the Acropolis, gazing in wonder at the architectural tributes to the Greek gods. The mountain monasteries of Meteora provided a breathtaking view of the Kalambaka province, and were impressive in and of themselves. Finally, The journey over Mount Parnassus, culminating in the visit to the ancient ruins of Delphi, was probably Jaune's favorite part of Greece they'd been to thus far. Not only was the mountain itself one of the largest on the mainland, but the cultural and spiritual significance of Delphi was not lost on him. Even if he didn't necessarily have a personal connection to the Greek theologies of old, the area still felt alive with a certain... potency. Jaune didn't know how to describe it, but Pyrrha also noted that the air around Delphi hummed with a feeling of power.

Pyrrha's emergence from the bathroom brought Jaune's thoughts back to the present, her red face making a valiant effort to match the scarlet color of her (currently unkempt) hair. Though whether the color in her cheeks was brought on by embarrassment or the physical exertion of her stomach forcibly evacuating its contents, Jaune didn't know. And as he liked to think of himself as a gentleman, he wasn't about to ask. Instead, he decided to lead off with a much safer question.

"Feeling better?"

Pyrrha cast a sideways glance at her partner as she flopped down next to him on the bed, "Physically? For now. Emotionally? Humiliated beyond comprehension."

 _So that answers the unasked question._ Jaune thought. He took Pyrrha's hand and gave it a light squeeze while he flashed her a smile, "Humiliated? I can't imagine why."

Pyrrha shot him a glare before returning her gaze to the ceiling, "This was supposed to be a lovely cruise. Everyone's been telling us we needed to visit Greece after the war, and everyone's _also_ been telling us to make sure we tour the islands. So after all that build up and anticipation, I find out that I suffer from seasickness and have spent more time than I'd care to admit staring into a toilet bowl."

"Ah yes... praying to the Porcelain God." Jaune commented sagely, "I know the position all too well." He wrapped an arm around Pyrrha's shoulders and smiled once more at his partner, "Look at it this way, Pyr. You've seen me tossing my cookies on more than one occasion since we've known each other. Now that I can say the same about you, it's like we've reached an entirely new level in our relationship. We now have a deeper connection with each other."

His partner rolled her eyes, but didn't respond. A red flag shot up in Jaune's brain. Embarrassed about the vomiting or no, Pyrrha _always_ laughed at his dumb jokes, especially if they were specifically meant to cheer her up. Jaune had a sneaking suspicion he knew the cause, yet he also knew better than to pry. While she tried her best to be humble whenever possible, it's hard to suppress one's pride when you're as accomplished as Pyrrha Nikos. Pressing her on what was wrong, especially in the wake of her mortifying seasickness episode, wouldn't be helpful at all.

"Well listen, the ship's due to arrive at the next stop in about twenty minutes. Why don't we clean up and get ready to take the little boat taxi to the island when we drop anchor?"

"Why does it have to be those little boats..." Pyrrha groaned, burying her face into a pillow, "I've never seen a piece of wood pitch and roll as much as those death traps do."

Her partner gave Pyrrha a sympathetic pat before moving off towards the bathroom to clean himself up.

* * *

Jaune's first impression of Mykonos was that the guide book had no idea what the word 'breezy' meant. Sure, the wind felt reasonable as he and Pyrrha meandered along the pathways of the island's main town. But the moment they left the safety of the quaint houses, churches, and shops to visit the island's famous windmills? Gale-force winds suddenly assaulted the two hunters and hounded after them without mercy. He should've guessed there was a reason the islanders built those damn mills. What would be the point if the air did little more than ruffle his hair?

More than anything, Jaune felt guilty for not thinking to warn Pyrrha about the wind. He assumed that it wouldn't be a big deal, and so Jaune didn't think to say anything when his partner decided to wear the red summer dress he bought for her back in Athens. In fact, the only thought crossing his mind at the time was how incredibly _good_ she looked. The material was light and soft, perfect for a young woman touring a region of the world that generally enjoyed hot weather for the majority of the year. It was a simple design, using elastic material to hold itself against Pyrrha's chest while a piece of fabric wrapped around the neck to and came together in a knot above her sternum. A slit opened up the left side of the dress up to Pyrrha's knee, allowing it to flutter in the breeze as the two of them walked among the shops.

Of course, it also offered very little by way of protection against the winds, and the gooseflesh spreading across his partner's skin did not escape Jaune's notice.

"Well this is certainly... something." Pyrrha said with a laugh as the two of them trekked onwards toward the windmills up the hill. She had one arm over her face to protect he eyes from airborne dust and sand while the other was pressed down on the dress to keep it from flaring up in the wind.

"Y-yeah." Jaune agreed, panicking for a split-second when a particularly strong gust almost knocked him off balance and sent him tumbling back down the hill, "Tell you what: why don't we just settle for touching the windmills and then enjoying their majesty from a distance?"

"Agreed. C'mon, we're almost there!"

With a few more steps, Jaune and Pyrrha finally reached the nearest windmill and planted their palms against its exterior. Once they decided their mission was 'accomplished,' the couple raced back down the hill and came to a breathless halt upon reaching the safety of the town.

Once Jaune had the chance to properly regulate his breathing, he felt a familiar gurgle in his stomach, "Hey... you feeling hungry at all?"

"A little." Pyrrha admitted, "Do you have anything in mind?"

Jaune nodded down the street towards a small cafe, a portly old man beaming at them while sitting on a stool out front, "He looks pretty friendly. How about we head inside, warm up a bit, and enjoy some local hospitality?"

Finding no reason to object, Pyrrha agreed before following Jaune towards the cafe's proprietor, whose smile grew even wider at the prospect of guests.

" _Kalispera_! Good afternoon!" He greeted.

"Good afternoon." Pyrrha returned with a pleasant nod.

The old man beamed, "Americans?"

"... More or less." Jaune answered after sharing a private smirk with his partner.

"Good! Good!" The old man stepped aside and waved them inside, "Welcome! Please, have seat wherever you like!"

The couple selected a table by one of the open cafe windows that offered a nice view of the square outside. The buildings and trees surrounding the cafe offered protection enough from the windy weather, and so Pyrrha and Jaune had the opportunity to sit comfortably and people watch without their hair getting blown every which way. The old man returned and set down a pair of menus in front of his guests.

"My name is Demitrios Georgacakis. Please, take your time." With a slight bow, he retreated to his stool at the front, though Jaune noticed with some amusement that the man's attention remained primarily on his current customers rather than keeping an eye out for new ones.

"So, you planning on ordering something big or something light?" Jaune asked.

"Probably light." Pyrrha answered with a sigh, "We do have to get back to the boat at some point, and I'd rather keep my... ah... _episodes_ down to a minimum."

"Boat doesn't leave until tomorrow morning. We could probably find someplace to sleep in this town if you'd rather-"

"Yes."

"Aaaaaand that settles that." The young huntsman chuckled, "I'll let the hotel manager on the boat know when we're done here."

Pyrrha smiled, relief etched across her face, "In that case, I don't see anything wrong with eating something a bit more... substantial."

"So... lamb, then?"

"Lamb." Pyrrha agreed, "Though this kremmydopita does sound... exotic."

"It's local specialty." Demitrios said, suddenly appearing behind Jaune, "Light pie that uses phyllo for crust, and filled with onion, feta, and kefalotyri." He nudged Jaune and smiled, "Your friend has _excellent_ taste."

Once Demitrios finished taking their order and shuffled off to the kitchen, the two hunters fell into a comfortable silence. Outside the window, locals and tourists in brightly-colored attire walked along the streets as little birds waddled around and pecked at invisible scraps on the pavement. Music lazily floated down from the audio system in the cafe, and the smell of Greek cuisine wafted in from the back room. Jaune closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and spent a moment to take stock of his present situation.

Here he was, on a remote island where nobody knew his name except for the gorgeous young woman sitting across from him. They had just finished surviving a brutal and bloody war, somehow coming out of the ordeal closer as partners than Jaune could have ever imagined. He'd spent the last two weeks travelling around a wondrous country full of history and fables with his friend, partner, and (as Penny would aptly put it) mate. And now here she sat, beauty incarnate, gazing idly out the window at the passersby while the two of them waited for a meal that was, for all intents and purposes, a little slice of Pyrrha's Mistrali home. And he could look forward to this perfect bliss for the next few months _at least_.

And yet, he couldn't help but notice that Pyrrha looked... down. To the untrained eye, she looked as happy as any tourist travelling to the beautiful Cyclades, but Jaune knew his partner better than anyone. Beneath her facade, the one she learned to cultivate after years in the limelight, he sensed a sort fatigue in his partner. Something was eating away at her, and Jaune knew that it would continue to do so unless he thought of a way to help. Fortunately, he had an idea of what was causing her discomfort. Unfortunately, he really wasn't looking forward to the prospect of bringing it up with his partner. With a deep breath, he reached out and touched Pyrrha's hand with his own. When she looked at him curiously, Jaune steeled himself and asked the question on the tip of his tongue.

"Pyrrha, do you..." He hesitated when the young woman turned to face him questioningly, knowing that the moment he finished his sentence, he wouldn't be able to take it back, "Do you believe in destiny?"

When Pyrrha visibly stiffened and her eyes shot wide, Jaune knew that he'd found the source of her troubles.

"How... do you know about that?" She asked, slowly drawing out each word.

Jaune flashed a melancholy smile, "You talk in your sleep, Pyr. I don't know what it means, exactly, but I know that it's been eating at you for the past week."

Pyrrha broke eye contact and glanced down at the table, "It's been longer than a week." She admitted.

 _Careful now, Jaune. Don't press your luck._

"We don't have to talk about it." He added, "Dust knows I'm the last person who deserves to tell people they should open up about personal problems. But I want you to know... I'm here."

Pyrrha looked back up at him, and while her eyes still held a sense of wariness, she smiled, "Thank you, Jaune. Hearing you say that means a lot to me."

Demitrios returned a few minutes later with a steaming onion pie, setting it down between the two hunters and grinning with anticipation, "Enjoy, my friends. You will not be disappointed."

Jaune watched as Pyrrha carefully cut the pie in half and handed him his share before sampling her own. Where her eyes wore a downcast expression only seconds ago, they lit up the moment the Greek pastry passed her lips.

"Delicious!" She squeaked before stabbing another forkful and shoving it into her mouth. Jaune didn't think it was possible for the proprietor's smile to grow wider, yet Demitrios proved him wrong when he heard Pyrrha singing his praise.

"It's recipe taught to me by my own grandmother." He whispered conspiratorially, glancing around to make sure nobody else could hear, "When I was about your age, actually. Nobody made better kremmydopita than _yia yia_ Georgacakis."

Jaune nodded in agreement, "I'll bet. This tastes amazing."

"The _arnaki_ will be out shortly." Demitrios added before excusing himself to the kitchen once more.

Between bites of his own, Jaune couldn't help but smile as he saw Pyrrha savor the flavors of the onion pie. Her eyes glistened, and Jaune could only guess what kind of memories of home cooking this meal brought back for his partner. The look on Pyrrha's face when she rolled a bite of the pastry around in her mouth was one of pure, innocent bliss. In this singular moment, nothing else mattered to Pyrrha. No nightmares, no memories of war, no thoughts of being 'the girl on the pedastal'... all her attention was focused on the little slice of heaven dancing across her tongue.

By the time the two of them finished off the pie (with Jaune donating half of his share to Pyrrha after he noticed her eyeing it hungrily), Demitrios appeared once more with the freshly-cooked lamb in one hand and a bottle of clear liquid in the other. He placed the food between Jaune and Pyrrha before setting down the bottle and drawing up a seat. He produced three shot glasses and began to measure out a small portion of the unfamiliar liquid into each. Jaune guessed that it was some sort of spirit, but the only clear alcohol that he could think of was vodka, and wasn't that more of a Russian thing?

"Forgive my intrusion." Demetrios apologized as he set a glass in front of his two guests, "But I would like to wish good health to you both. It isn't every day that such beautiful young love comes to my cafe."

He smiled as watched the couple's cheeks flush red, "I see the way you look at one another. I see love in the young man's eyes, respect and adoration for the perfect woman sitting across from him. And I see the joyful companionship shine forth from the lady, content to be with the man sharing his evening with her. Now that the nasty business with the war is over, it is time for us to remember the soul of who we truly are as people."

He raised his glass and waited for Pyrrha and Jaune to do the same before toasting, "To life, to love, and to you. _Yamas_!"

The two hunters echoed Demitrios's exclamation before clinking glasses, and all three of them knocked back their drinks. Jaune's eyes grew wide as he felt the alcohol burn on its way down his throat, leaving behind a distinct flavor of licorice as it continued to burn its way into his stomach. The proprietor let out a hearty chuckle when he saw Jaune's reaction, and he began to pour out another round of shots before commenting, "Never tried ouzo? Best drink anywhere in the world, I assure you. Come, eat up while I tell you about the stories of Mykonos, my home."

And so the three of them sat, Jaune and Pyrrha enjoying the flavors of their meal while Demitrios's train of thought flitted from topic to topic about his beloved island. The lamb was just as good as the kremmydopita (if Pyrrha's reaction was any indication), and Jaune enjoyed listening to Demitrios speak. While he slowly started to tune out what the old man was actually saying, Jaune couldn't help but remain enraptured by the _way_ he said it. Pride flowed out of Demetrios like a fountain, and he spoke every word as if each story was an epic worthy of the greatest bards and minstrels in the world. The passion in his voice as he waxed poetry of his island, as well as his nation, spoke volumes to Jaune of how proud the Greeks really were when it came to their corner of the world.

The two hunters had long finished their food, yet both were perfectly happy to let Demitrios continue spinning his tales. Jaune watched as the old man's recounting of Greece's history held Pyrrha's complete attention, and Jaune himself was just content to be a part of the cafe's little fellowship. The old man continued to pour drinks for the trio as he sang the triumphs of his motherland, halting his stories every few minutes so that they could knock back another shot. And while Jaune's vision began to grow slightly blurry, he found himself to be warming up to the flavor of ouzo.

"Give me a word, _any_ word, and I show you how the root is Gree-" Demitrios cut himself off and his ears perked up at the sound of the song that had begun to play in the cafe. He looked from Pyrrha to Jaune before a grin spread itself once more across his face.

"This song! You must let me show you how to dance to this song."

Jaune turned his head up to face the ceiling, as if that would help him hear the notes that drifted through the speakers, "I... recognize this. Heard it a few times during our travels across the mainland."

"It is the Sirtaki." Demitrios answered, "It isn't the oldest of Greek traditions, but it will put the fire of life into your bones, I assure you. Come!"

The couple got up, unwilling to refuse the request of the jovial old man (and perhaps egged on by the alcohol coursing through their veins). Demitrios quickly arranged his students so that Pyrrha and Jaune were standing next to each other at arm's length, with Pyrrha on the right. He grabbed their arms and set them so that they were fully extended with Pyrrha's left hand was gripping Jaune's right shoulder and Jaune mirroring the position. Jaune noticed (with some amusement) that Demitrios took up his position next to Pyrrha instead of Jaune, but chose to say nothing.

"Now... feel the music, and follow my lead."

Demitrios started with a slow sidestep to the right, and the two teenagers followed suit.

As he continued, to move, the old man called out the steps, "Left... right... aaaaaaand _dip_!" Demitrios lurched forward, hopping to his lead foot with surprising agility while Jaune and Pyrrha stumbled after him. They watched him swing his back leg forward into a kick before using it to step back and repeat.

"Kick... kick... sidestep." The trio continued at a slow pace. When Demitrios hesitated with the next step and instead began to slowly lean forward, Pyrrha and Jaune guessed that another hop was next and managed to jump in time with their mentor, earning them a laugh and a smile.

"Very good! Careful now. It's time to go faster!"

Indeed, the music's tempo picked up, putting to the test Jaune and Pyrrha's newfound knowledge of the dance steps. Demitrios hesitated less now, trusting his friends to keep up as the song progressed. His faith did not go unrewarded, and Demitrios's impressed laughter continued to echo throughout the cafe.

The room started to spin a little faster for Jaune as his ouzo-induced inebriation clashed with his ability focus on the dance. He offered a silent thanks to his sisters and their insistence that he learn how to dance when his willpower and training beat out his tipsy state, allowing Jaune to remain upright. After only a minute or two, the steps felt like second-nature. Between the lively music, Demitrios's cries of _Opa!_ and Pyrrha's melodic laughter, Jaune wished the song could last forever. Sadly, the tempo of the Sirtaki began to wind down, and the dancers were reminded that all good things must come to a close.

Demitrios fell back into a chair, laughing and applauding while Jaune and Pyrrha traded grins.

"I have not laughed so much in a very long time." Demitrios said, grabbing a napkin off the table to gently mop his brow, "My daughter, Artemis..." He paused for a moment, as if trying to correct a mistake, "Diana... she found the love of her life in America, and the two of them happily live on the other side of the world." Jaune noticed a hint of melancholy in the old man's smile as he thought about his child, "I hold no grudge, of course. My daughter's happiness is my happiness. She comes to visit when she has the time, even bringing along my first grandson on her latest visit! But I miss the laughter and energy she brought to my home. These days, most of the people who come to eat with me are either too old, too busy, or too boring. There is no spark within their eyes."

His smile grew wide again, and he glanced from Pyrrha to Jaune, "But you... it is clear to me that you have Greek blood running through your veins, and the joy of life in your hearts. Thank you for indulging an old man and letting him feel young again." He reached for the bottle of ouzo and shook it enticingly before asking, "One more round, my friends?"

After a story like that, how could Jaune possibly say no?

* * *

The late evening found Jaune and Pyrrha stretched out on the sandy shoreline. The former was laid out across a towel, his arms resting comfortably under his head while the latter used her partner's stomach as a makeshift pillow. With the gentle sound of the waves lapping up against the shoreline, the two hunters turned their gaze up towards the heavens. Jaune pulled out one arm from behind his head and pointed to a patch in the sky, "Hey, I think I see you up there."

Pyrrha glanced at her partner, eyebrow raised, "Me?"

"Yeah, you. Look." He pointed again, and Pyrrha tried to follow where Jaune was indicating as he continued to speak, "Poised for combat, sword and shield at the ready, about to take on the bull charging in from the right."

"You have me mistaken for Orion, Jaune." Pyrrha commented with a laugh, "And I believe he's wielding a club and lion's head rather than a sword and shield, if memory serves."

Jaune shrugged, "An amazing Grecian warrior, deserving of immortalization amongst the stars? I dunno, Pyr, that sounds a lot like you."

He winced when Pyrrha reached over and punched him in the arm, "Do I need to repeat what I said to you when we talked on the balcony during the dance at Beacon?"

"Yeah, yeah... you don't like being the Girl on the Pedestal." Jaune commented, sticking his tongue out at Pyrrha, "Whether you like it or not, though, you mean the world to me. Not only did you literally save my life during initiation, but you've molded me into the warrior I am today. Maybe I never knew you when you were winning tournaments or getting your face plastered on cereal boxes, but I _have_ seen you train tirelessly to help your partner and the way fight with unmatched ferocity to protect your friends. _That's_ the hero I know, and it's the one that will forever be the brightest constellation in my sky."

Pyrrha hoped that the cover of darkness masked the heat she felt rising to her cheeks. For such an adorable goofball, her partner certainly had a way with words when it mattered, "You molded yourself, Jaune. I just... gave you a small push in the right direction."

"When you first started to train me, I could barely hold my sword the right way." Jaune countered, "You spent hours upon hours with me on that roof, teaching me everything you know about stance, positioning, and movement. Every morning, you'd get me up early enough for us to watch the sun crest the horizon during our daily run before breakfast. You've been there for each and every step I've taken on my path to becoming a huntsman worthy of my family name." Pyrrha looked at her partner and saw the sincerity of his words shining through his eyes as he continued, "I understand that you don't want me to sell myself short, but that's not going to stop me from recognizing your efforts during my journey, either."

"Our journey." Pyrrha corrected softly, "While it's true that I've done a lot to help you in the time that we've known each other, the same can just as easily be said about your efforts to help me."

Jaune looked down at Pyrrha and opened his mouth to deliver a retort, but his words became caught in his throat. He closed his mouth, opened it again, looked up at the sky, and back down at Pyrrha. The two locked eyes while a smile spread across the redhead's face as she saw the realization hit her partner. Jaune closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto the towel.

"I guess I have, haven't I?" He asked. When Pyrrha gave an affirmative hum, he added, "I think the only time I've ever come close to experiencing loneliness like yours is when I agreed to help Vahlen with the Aura research. I know it was self-inflicted isolation, but spending each day keeping that secret from the rest of you, it felt like I was building up an invisible barrier between us, brick by brick. Going through the day, pretending to be happy even though I knew what kind of... unpleasantness waited for me at night. I've never felt lonelier in my life." He looked down at Pyrrha's hands laced together over her stomach and moved to rest his on top of them, "I'm glad you don't feel alone anymore."

Though he didn't realize it (and certainly didn't mean it), Jaune's words sent the wheels in Pyrrha's head into overdrive. As he continued to gaze at the stars, his partner struggled with reconciling Jaune's comment and the secret she'd been keeping from him. Or rather, the one she thought she'd been keeping from him, if his earlier words in the cafe were any indication. She didn't know how long the dream would continue to plague her, but if she really did talk in her sleep... she knew Jaune, and she knew that he'd keep worrying about her until she did something about it. He didn't deserve that. After all they'd been through together, and especially after all the grief she gave him for the Aura Incident, he definitely didn't deserve that.

Pyrrha sighed, then began to speak in a voice barely loud enough to hear over the tide, "In my dream, I'm fighting a woman at the top of Ozpin's tower. I don't know who she is, I don't know why we're fighting, and I don't know where everyone else is, but it's just the two of us."

Jaune propped himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at his partner while she continued her story, "I've faced off against many amazing and talented individuals over the course of my career as a tournament fighter, but nobody has ever come _close_ to matching the combat strength of this woman from my dream. In terms of technical skill, she's nothing special. I'm able to outmaneuver her on multiple occasions, scoring a hit here and there. But the raw power she possesses..." She sighed and shook her head, "We fight like rabid wolves, each of us seems to know that only one person is walking away from this alive. I use every tactic, every trick, every shred of training I know to defeat this woman..." She closed her eyes, "But it's not enough. She drains me of my Aura, cripples me with a shot to the heel, and I'm left on my knees, helpless and completely at her mercy."

With a sinking feeling, Jaune knew what was coming next, but didn't say anything, "As she nocks another arrow and draws back on the bowstring, I look up at her, and I ask-"

"Do you believe in Destiny." Jaune supplied quietly.

Pyrrha nodded, "I've never heard so much cruelty and malice put into a single word, but the way she said 'Yes'... it sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it. She fires the arrow, and I can _feel_ it pierce my chest and burn me from the inside out. I didn't even know that dreams can inflict actual pain, but... it felt so real."

"I know."

"You know?" She asked, looking at Jaune for the first time since she began, "What do you mean?"

"You... don't just talk in your sleep, Pyrrha." He sighed, "The first time I found out about this, you woke me up by hitting my arm while thrashing wildly in bed. I guess that's the part where you're battling this mysterious woman. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is when you cry out in pain before you wake up." Jaune answered.

Pyrrha stared at Jaune in wide-eyed horror, "No..."

"Yes." Jaune confirmed, "I tried to wrap my arms around you the first time, to... y'know... to comfort you or something. But you bolted for the bathroom and started one of your _episodes_. That's probably why you never knew that the dream woke me up: you always assumed it was your mad dash for the toilet that roused me." The two lay there in silence for a while, each trying to process what the other had said. Pyrrha marshaled her thoughts and spoke first.

"It just felt so _real_ , Jaune." She repeated miserably, "And I felt so alone. Emotions in dreams can be difficult to interpret, but I always have this sense that I'm doing the right thing when I'm staring down this woman who holds my life in her hands. Like my Destiny was to spend my whole life working towards a singular goal, and my fight with her was the culmination of that path, regardless of whether I live or die when it's all over. I'm never able to remember her face when I wake up, but I have this sense that fighting her... dying by her hand... it's important. And yet, despite all of that-" Pyrrha paused, her voice caught in her throat, before she managed to finish her thought in a voice far smaller than the one Jaune was used to, "... I don't want to die alone."

"You won't." Jaune answered, confidence behind every word, "I don't know why you have this dream. I don't know if it holds any sort of special significance. Hell, I don't even know what I could do to help make the dream go away. But I do know one thing." He looked down at his partner, and her breath hitched for a moment at the steely determination set in his eyes, "The Pyrrha I know would _never_ fight alone. Maybe that girl on the pedestal from six months ago would have, believing that fighting without backup was the best way to avoid even more bloodshed, to avoid getting her friends hurt, but not this one. The six months we spent at XCOM taught me one very important lesson: we work together so that we don't die apart.

"I don't know how well you fared against your Ethereal in the alien base assault," Jaune continued, "But mine almost killed me. It assaulted my mind with such overwhelming force, I couldn't imagine how _anyone_ had the strength to stand up and push forward in the face of their power. I collapsed behind a wall and thought, 'This is it. This is where I die. All that training, all that confidence... insignificant compared to this monster's mental vortex.' "

His face, twisted into a scowl as he relived the memory, softened as he reached the next part of his story, "But then I felt a fire in my side, and I saw MacAuley crouching next to me with a stim pack jammed between my ribs. The two of us pushed forward, together, and we killed the damn thing. When it was all over, my only thought was that I would've been dead if it wasn't for Mac. The timid Engineer who never once believed his efforts on the battlefield could ever hold a candle to the likes of Ruby, Zhang, you, or even me. He, of all people, saved my life, and it helped me realize that anyone can make a difference when they're part of a team."

Jaune sat up, faced Pyrrha, and pulled her hands into his, "So I know for a fact you won't die alone, Pyrrha. Because no matter what else happens, no matter who else we might work with or stand against, you and I are a team. I'll always be at your side, ready to face whatever odds life decides to throw our way. Because I believe in Destiny too." The two of them locked eyes, and Jaune leaned forward until their foreheads gently connected, "And my Destiny is to always be with you."

As their lips touched, a single tear rolled down Pyrrha's cheek. Once more, Jaune was proving to her that she made the right choice when she pinned him to a tree and claimed him as her partner during initiation. She loved this man, and as they embraced each other under the starlit sky, she knew that nothing would ever change that.


	3. Passing Notes

A/N: So I had this sitting at 'mostly done' for about a week now, but a friend of mine asked me how I was enjoying XCOM. This, of course, made me realize that I hadn't started a new campaign recently, so I loaded up my RWBY character pool, turned on a bunch of cool-looking mods, and suddenly all my free time turned into 'Let's see how Arslan 'Team Mom' Atlan will carry the squad _this_ time around.' Because it turns out that the mods I'm using that tweak how swords work have turned Momma Arslan into a beast like no other. She truly is a thing of beauty.

* * *

Colm MacAuley groaned as the vibrating strap on his wrist pulled the Corporal out of his blissful slumber. Due to the rather... unique work schedules that the various officers, operatives, and base technicians had to deal with at the Anthill, Shen developed a silent alarm system that allowed everyone at XCOM to wake up when they needed to without disrupting the sleep cycle of everyone else in the barracks. Rather than emit an audible cue to wake up, the wrist straps would silently vibrate when triggered. The effect was mild at first, probably to 'ease' the user back into the world of the living, but would build in magnitude until even the heaviest sleeper could no longer ignore the annoyance.

And the cruelest part of the entire design? The device wouldn't stop buzzing until the user tagged the RFID console located just outside the entrance to the barracks. So a long walk past the rows and rows of bunks was necessary to shut the damn thing off. MacAuley had to grudgingly give Shen credit for coming up with such an insidious design, though that didn't stop him from cursing the Chief Engineer under his breath as he headed back to his footlocker and got dressed. First on his list of activities for today was a morning walk down to the generator blocks.

Even though 'Mac' technically changed career paths and started training as a field operative after witnessing Lieutenant Rose's inspiring display of heroism during the pitched battle in Engineering, he still had a lot of friends among the technicians that maintained XCOM's power supply. After only a few weeks as an operative, MacAuley got into the habit of stopping by the generator rooms during the wee hours of the morning to shoot the shit with his buddies and help them finish their shift on a high note. Despite his distaste for waking up at 5 am to the sensation of his wrist convulsing, the bond he shared with his fellow technicians ran deeper than his need for beauty sleep. Stifling a tired yawn, he slowly trudged down the last hallway and rounded the corner, smiling at the familiar sight of 'home.'

What wasn't familiar, however, was the young woman sitting cross-legged in the middle of the corridor and staring off into one of the generator rooms with extreme focus. MacAuley stopped short and spent a couple of seconds just staring at the strange visitor, trying to figure out who she was and why she decided to be sitting in his hallway at such an ungodly hour. Orange-red hair... short frame... pink gloves...

Oh.

The Valkyrie kid.

MacAuley didn't recognize the huntress without her skirt-and-vest combo, especially since the standard XCOM fatigues looked a little oversized for her short stature. Why she decided to park herself in his hallway, Mac wasn't sure. Perhaps she had an obsession with electricity? He eventually decided that he'd get his answer faster if he just asked her himself. As he resumed walking, MacAuley noticed with some amusement that the new kid seemed completely oblivious to his presence.

"Hey kid, wha-" The amount of anger and power radiating from the kid's glare killed whatever words had lodged themselves in MacAuley's throat. He reminded himself just how dangerous these fighters from Remnant could be, and remembered that Nora was the 'crazy one' from Team JNPR that wielded a giant hammer like it was a nerf bat. Before he could even begin to form an apology to appease the dangerous stranger, she reached behind her back and brandished a pad of paper that held five words clearly written in a loud font.

 _BE QUIET. REN IS MEDITATING._

When she jabbed a finger into the room that previously held her attention, MacAuley stole a peek and noted that, yes, Operative Lie Ren was peacefully resting inside with his back facing the door. Seemed like he and Belladonna had something in common.

MacAuley gestured towards the paper, indicating that he wished to borrow it. Nora obliged, and the engineer carefully folded the top page back before pulling out a pen from his pocket and writing on the fresh paper.

 _So what are you doing? Guarding him or something?_

Nora read his message, rolled her eyes, then grabbed the pen and paper from MacAuley.

 _NO. I'm learning._

 _Learning what?_

The huntress threw him a look that clearly asked, 'Are you stupid?'

 _Learning how to meditate!_

Having made the decision to postpone his plans to meet up with his buddies (the present situation was _far_ too interesting to leave alone by this point), MacAuley took a seat next to Nora so that the two of them could more easily pass the pad of paper back and forth.

 _So is this some sort of test? He's given you some instructions, and now you're practicing?_

 _What? No! He hasn't taught me anything. I'm just trying to learn by watching._

 _But he's right there. Just ask him for tips._

 _I don't want to interrupt his special meditation time! It's super-important for Renny!_

Yep. Definitely the crazy one.

 _So have you been taking notes, or are you too busy staring dreamily at his silky black hair?_

Nora flashed another dangerous glare at her companion before producing a second pad of paper. Unlike the first, this one contained much more than five words. Scribbled notes, sketches, annotations for the sketches, and even a few mathematical computations were splashed across the page. MacAuley's eyes shot wide as he skimmed through the detailed writing, impressed by Nora's thorough work.

 _Holy shit._

 _Language! But yeah, I've been here for an hour._

 _Wait, seriously? You've been up since_ four _?! How are you even functioning right now?_

 _Pancakes._

MacAuley didn't even want to know why that one word was apparently a sufficient answer. Without having anything to add to their silent conversation, the Irishman opted to let Nora resume her careful study of the young man resting in the generator room. He stood up, dusted himself off, and offered Nora a casual salute in farewell before heading off towards his original objective.

"Weird kid." He muttered.

* * *

MacAuley knew he shouldn't have been surprised when he saw Nora sitting attentively in the same place two days later. Without a word, he took a seat next to the young huntress. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before MacAuley motioned for the notebook.

 _You know, I always thought the zen meditation stuff was just a bunch of hooey that Zhang used to make himself seem more mysterious or something. But I can kinda see the appeal in it._

 _Yeah, Ren's pretty serious about it._

 _So why did you wait until now to start learning?_

Nora didn't immediately begin to scribble a response, and a blank look crossed her face instead. MacAuley wondered if he brought up a sensitive subject by mistake before his companion shook herself out of her funk and wrote a response.

 _It always looked boring. But Ruby keeps saying this war is super-important, and if Ren and Blake find the meditation stuff to be helpful, then maybe it's worth trying._

Blake...

 _You're not afraid that Belladonna is mackin' on your guy because they both do this meditation thing, are you?_

Nora clamped one hand over MacAuley's mouth before slugging him in the gut with her free fist. Any semblance of fatigue promptly left the Irishman as tears formed at the corners of his eyes. While he made a mental note to never find himself on the wrong side of Nora ever again, the huntress in question began scribbling another note.

 _Just because we're not together-together doesn't mean that anyone else is trying to seduce my best friend!_

MacAuley suppressed a cough (he didn't want to get clocked by the little firecracker again) and slowly penciled out a response.

 _Point taken. I'm gonna go do my thing while you keep doing your thing so you don't try the punchy thing again._

Nora waved a dismissive hand at MacAuley while she returned her attention to Ren. The Irishman stood up with a wince and left Nora to her studying.

* * *

 _Seriously, why don't you just ask to join him?_

MacAuley came prepared this time with a notepad of his own, slipping the article into Nora's lap as he took a seat next to her once more.

 _I told you already! I don't want to disturb him._

 _You're making assumptions. Why would it disturb him? Way I see it, he'd be happy that you're taking an interest in this stuff._

MacAuley noticed a faintly melancholy look cross Nora's face and watched her breathe out a silent sigh.

 _I'm too fidgety. There's no way I wouldn't be a distraction if I was sitting in there with him. But Ren's too nice to say anything, so we'd just sit there with me fidgeting and him not getting his meditation done and I'd feel awful the entire time knowing that it's all my fault that he's secretly miserable and what if he'd finally get fed up with it and tell me we can't be friends anymore and I'd be all alone because nobody knows me like Ren since we've spent literally our entire lives together and I don't think I could take that because-_

Before she could burn a hole through his notepad from writing so much, MacAuley pulled the paper away from Nora and gave her a weird look before reading what she wrote and passing back a response.

 _You're WAY over-thinking this, kid. If Ren is even half the man he seems to be from the short time I've known him, there's no way that would happen. I've been around you guys for a week now, and the depth of his patience with you is bordering on sainthood. Out of everyone who is at all capable of spending extended periods of time with you, Ren is number one on that list._

 _I know! And that's why I can't screw it up! Nobody else can deal with me like Ren can!_

 _So why do you think he wouldn't be able to deal with this?_

Nora shrugged, her frustration with MacAuley mounting.

 _I just don't want to risk it, I guess. What if it's the last straw or something? What if my antics annoy him too much? I can't help but feel giddy and excited when I'm around Ren. He means the world to me, you know? But he's always so calm and stuff. I just never know if he gets... excited around me._

And there was the crux of the matter. MacAuley had already guessed as much when his teasing about Blake had earned him a swift punch to the gut, but this pretty much confirmed it. How was he supposed to give advice on guys to this kid? He'd have to think carefully about the best way to approach it.

Or maybe just not approach it at all. Why did he even care about this? The teenage drama of these kids wasn't his problem. They'd eventually get it sorted out on their own, wouldn't they? Why waste his time trying to help the Valkyrie kid with her self-esteem issues and guy troubles when he could be doing stuff he cared about, like knocking back Guinness with his buddies a few rooms over? At least he wouldn't have to worry about getting clocked in the stomach with those guys. So why was he still here?

Maybe he had an easy time commiserating with the 'class clown,' given that he'd been dumped into the same category shortly after joining XCOM. Or maybe he had a soft spot for kids, though he'd never had any indication of that sort of thing in the past. What if getting up at five in the goddamn morning was screwing with his sense of priorities? That would explain why he felt the need to sit down with Valkyrie every time he passed her on his way to the other end of the generator block. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Nora was Ruby's friend, and MacAuley innately trusted and respected anyone that Red vouched for.

Well fuck it. Whatever the case was, he'd come this far on his Journey into Nora's Problems. Might as well see it through. He picked up the pad and started to write again.

 _Are you going to these great lengths because you think the meditation is important? Or is it because of the guy doing the meditating?_

Nora didn't scribble a response right away, and MacAuley guessed that she was trying to find a good way to put her thoughts into words.

 _Ren's done some group meditation exercises for our team before. His idea of a team bonding event or something. I think Pyrrha liked it, but Jaune and I didn't really see the point. Looking back, though, I wonder if Ren was disappointed that I didn't appreciate what he was trying to do. I guess I've been too afraid to bring it up since then._

 _Worried that you can't make it up to him?_

Nora shrugged.

 _I guess. I try really hard to make Ren happy. I know that actions speak louder than words for him, so I figure that being cheerful when he's around will show him what I think. But it never gets a response. Even if I don't entirely understand it, we're still best friends and I don't want to ruin that. So I just leave things as they are, because why try to fix what isn't broken?_

Nora was getting ready to write more, but she looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. MacAuley smiled back before taking the pad from his friend and writing out his response.

 _You're a good kid. A bit insane at times, but your heart's in the right place. Bradford sees it, your mentor sees it, and I'm almost positive that Ren sees it. I understand why you're worried, because who isn't scared shitless of the unknown? But you owe it to yourself to have a talk with the guy. You don't even need to go into all the confusing stuff, just ask if you can join him in the mornings. If he's even half as perceptive as he looks, he'll see how important this has become for you._

MacAuley hesitated before adding another line to his note.

 _And if it doesn't work... we'll figure something out._

 _We?_

 _Yeah, we. Like it or not, you're growing on me, shortstack. I've got your back, and you can count on me to keep my mouth shut about this whole thing._

Nora smiled.

 _Sounds good. One thing, though._

 _Yeah?_

 _Call me shortstack again, and I'll break your legs._

 _Noted._

* * *

A multitude of thoughts raced through MacAuley's mind as he made the familiar journey to the generator block. He wondered if Nora had actually taken his advice and talked to Ren, or if he'd find her once again sitting in the hallway staring at her partner for an hour. Without even trying, his mind started to draft an opening note for him to pass off to his new friend to get their next conversation started. They'd have to figure out another strategy for approaching the Ren Problem.

It's funny, MacAuley couldn't remember when his morning diversion with Nora stopped becoming a point of amusement and turned into a part of his daily routine that he actually looked forward to. He really meant it when he said that she was starting to grow on him, though it probably helped that he was only exposed to her in small doses. Well, maybe if he kept working on his combat skills and became a valuable asset for XCOM, he'd end up working with JNPR more often.

His musings were cut short when he rounded the last corner and saw no sign of Nora. Carefully, very carefully, he reached the doorway and glanced into the room. A smile crossed Mac's face as he saw two young hunters sitting across from each other in the generator room, eyes closed and postures relaxed as they started their day among the tranquil humming of the facility's power systems.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, MacAuley froze when Ren cracked an eye open and stared at the peeking intruder. The two of them held each other's gazes for a few stressful seconds before Ren nodded and resumed his meditative trance. MacAuley breathed a sigh of relief and continued on his way.

Maybe someday _he_ would ask Ren to teach him how to do that meditation stuff.

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure how I feel about this one. I love the idea of Nora and MacAuley passing notes to each other like kids in middle school, but the execution just feels a bit... off. I might revisit it later and try to rework some of the back-and-forth. Even though it's almost 3k words in length, it still feels short.


	4. Pagliacci

A/N: It seems like my plan to write short drabbles for Tales From The Anthill has slowly evolved into producing chapters twice to three times as long as I originally intended. Oh well, I'm still having fun writing these, so I guess it's all good.

On an unrelated note, I'm getting asked more often about when I'm going to start writing/posting the sequel to RWBY Within. I don't want to give a definitive date, but here's where things stand: The last two months of idly daydreaming and thinking about the sequel have actually yielded pretty awesome results in terms of laying out the plot. I'm very proud of what I've come up with, and I hope you'll all enjoy it when I get around to putting my thoughts to paper. I'm presently in the final semester of grad school, however, which eats into a lot of my free time that could otherwise be spent writing. Coupling that with starting a new job makes me believe that now wouldn't be the best time to start rolling out a new story. My semester ends in May, so I'll probably start building up my 'buffer' of chapters around that time. I'll be sure to keep you all informed when I have a clearer idea of where things stand.

* * *

Yang let out a long yawn as she sat up in bed and stretched her arms. A moment of confusion ensued wherein the energetic blonde wondered why the motion didn't feel quite as satisfying as it usually did before Yang remembered that the arms attached to her shoulders weren't exactly hers. She swung her legs (also not exactly hers) over the side of the bed and blinked a few times to clear the cobwebs of fatigue from her head. The sight of two metallic arms resting on the knees of two metallic legs greeted the groggy huntress when she opened her eyes once more. Mechanically speaking, the limbs worked fine: if Yang wanted to wiggle her pinky finger, the appendage responded without lag and in exactly the way that her brain commanded. After a day of acclimating to the leg prosthetics, Yang didn't have a problem with those, either.

And yet, no matter how loudly she told herself otherwise, the first reaction she felt when laying eyes on her new limbs had nothing to do with the excitement of learning to pilot a kickass MEC and the thought of caving in a Muton's face with a rocket-propelled fist. It had nothing to do with her firm belief that she made the right choice in in undergoing the same surgery as Blake so that her friend and partner had someone to relate to while she learned to adapt to her new situation. It had nothing to do with the relief that Ruby wasn't the one impaled by a Chryssalid and forced into a life-saving surgery without her consent.

Her first reaction could easily be summed up into a single word: _fuck_.

Because while she had a say in the life-changing decision of getting MEC'd, the fact remained that she now had limbs of titanium and steel instead of flesh and bones. While her arms felt 'normal' from a purely functional perspective, they didn't feel _right_. Yang hadn't experienced any of that phantom limb stuff she'd heard about, probably because the prosthetics served as a suitable mental substitute for her original limbs, but the first couple of nights sleeping with the fakes still took some getting used to. Even a week later, Yang's best record for 'consecutive hours of sleep' was no higher than five.

But hey, at least she had Blake now. After five days of quietly doubting herself and wondering if she made the right choice, the return of her partner to the world of the living helped push those thoughts back down to the dark recesses of her mind where they belonged. Now, she could focus on helping her partner come to grips with the MEC situation. If their first conversation was anything to go by, Blake would definitely need all the help she could get. Help, Yang reminded herself, which included the early-morning workout that had given her reason to wake up in the first place.

Yang was actually surprised that Blake agreed to go with her to the gym. Not because Blake didn't like spending time with Yang (a preposterous thought), but because racking weights and pumping iron wasn't exactly her style. So when Blake green lit the idea, Yang felt equal parts excited and honored. Almost immediately, she got to work coming up with a productive and interesting regimen for the two of them to run through. Not only would the program allow Blake to vent her aggression and anger in a safe fashion, but it would exercise key muscle groups to help her better acclimate to fighting inside a MEC suit. For the first time in a week, Yang had something to focus on, a goal to work towards. Nothing between Remnant and Earth would get in the way of Yang's desire to help her best friend.

She (carefully) rubbed her eyes one more time before rolling herself over to the other side of her bed to check on Blake's morning progress, only to find herself staring at an empty bunk.

Sweat slid down Bradford's face while the ragged sound of his breathing echoed within his head. The fact that a simple five-mile run on the treadmill was wearing him out told the Central Officer that he really needed to start hitting the gym more often. Sure, his line of work wasn't physically demanding, but that was a terrible excuse to not stay in shape. If he started to slip, his operatives would notice. If his operatives would notice, they'd question his commitment. If they questioned his commitment, then how could he expect them to follow his orders?

Once he finished his cooldown mile, Bradford grabbed the towel off of the treadmill's handlebar and mopped his face. He let the warm fabric fall to his shoulders when he heard the sound of the gym's door slamming open.

"Watch it, soldier," He chastised without looking up, "Shen's already got his hands full dealing with the aliens breaking our equipment. No need to add to- oh, hello Xiao Long."

"Hey." Yang answered curtly before ripping a fresh towel off of the laundered pile and throwing it at the nearest bench. Bradford raised an eyebrow as the young woman set about collecting weights and racking them on the bar. Something had clearly pissed her off, and the Central Officer had heard enough stories from the operatives around the base to know that it was unwise to bother an angry Yang, lest he risk becoming the focus of her ire.

And so Bradford promptly ignored those warnings and strolled over to the moody huntress, "Pretty sure you're gonna want to do a few warm-up reps before trying to bench that much."

"Not now, Brad. I need to get some shit out of my system. And besides, my arms are made of fuckin' metal, so why would I care about warming them up?"

Casual swearing. Now that was something that Bradford wasn't accustomed to hearing from his Remnant guests. Sure, Yang was the dirtiest of the bunch, but even she maintained a tighter filter than the average operative.

"Can I at least spot for you, Sergeant?"

Yang paused for a moment to look at Bradford, glance back at the large quantity of weights she had on her bar, and then look at Bradford again, "No offense, boss, but I doubt you'd be much help." She resumed racking the last few plates before adding, "Knock yourself out if you want, I guess."

"Well, I don't need to support the entire bar." Bradford pointed out as he took up a position behind the head of Yang's bench as she prepared for her first set, "Just the five percent that's holding you back."

Yang didn't respond as she pushed the bar off of its cradle and started pumping out her reps. Bradford had to admit: the kid's form was nothing short of exceptional. Not only was she lifting an absurd amount of weight, but Bradford couldn't see any slack or errors in her motion that he could comment on. Sure, one could argue that the metal arms could be considered cheating, but the real power in a bench press came from the chest, which was still very much made of human muscle in Yang's case. As she blew past her tenth rep and showed no sign of stopping, the Central Officer wondered just how many reps she could actually _do_.

Eventually, sweat started to bead on her forehead, and Bradford noticed the telltale signs of internal struggle.

"C'mon, kid. You've got this."

"Don't tell me... what I don't... already know." She answered between bursts of strength. Next came the shortcuts in her motions as the full rep became too much for Yang to handle.

"Keep 'em coming, Xaio Long."

"Brad..."

Yang's arms shuddered as her chest muscles struggled to push back against the weight. The strength of her robotic arms meant that the huntress was in no danger of dropping the bar and injuring herself, but Bradford knew that the goal was to push her chest to its breaking point. He wasn't sure what had gotten Yang so riled up, but he least he could do was help.

"C'mon! You're better than this!" He shouted.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She shouted back, her eyes glowing a dangerous red. The back of his mind told Bradford that he should stop. The stories from his operatives told him that this is where he needed to ease off. But he also knew that these make-or-break moments were where the greatest feats of strength and success transpired.

" _Harder!_ "

" _I'm TRYING!_ " She argued. Indeed, her muscles were shaking like an earthquake at this point, but her chest refused to push the bar high enough to re-rack it in its cradle.

"You don't _try_ , Xiao Long. You _succeed_! Give it your all, and give me _one more_!"

A guttural roar erupted from the back of Yang's throat, and she nearly overshot the cradle as she hoisted the bar up to the full height offered by her chest and let it drop with a loud clang. Silence settled across the gym, save for the heavy panting coming from the huntress.

"Damn." Bradford said, a grin forming on his face, "Xiao Long is Xiao _Strong_."

"Ugh." Yang replied, rolling her eyes, "That is probably the least original pun off of my name that you could have possibly come up with. You'll have to do better than that."

And yet, despite her criticism, Bradford caught the tiny smirk that formed at the corner of her mouth. Heartened by her positive reaction (small as it may be), he tossed the workout towel to Yang and asked, "So, what's next?"

Yang gave him a pointed look, all she said was, "Lats. Figured I'd start with a set of pull-downs."

Bradford nodded, "Let's get started, then."

Over the course of the next half hour, Yang continued to alternate between the pectoral and latissimus groups. For every exercise, Bradford stood by and offered verbal encouragement (along with physical assistance to squeeze in one last rep in a set) for his makeshift gym partner. Whenever Yang seemed to zone out or let her mind wander, he pulled her attention back to the task at hand. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was up with Xiao Long. Given that Bradford expected find Yang at the hip to her partner once Blake woke up, he suspected that Sergeant Belladonna was the root cause of Yang stomping into the gym alone. Bradford guessed that Blake wanted some time alone to give some serious thought to her present situation, a notion that was diametrically opposed to Yang's plans.

Bradford had no desire to get involved with _that_ emotional mess, but he knew there was more than one way to help out the frustrated huntress. So the Central Officer silently resolved to do what he does best: direct, motivate, and keep his soldiers focused on the target. A few operatives entered the gym while they worked, but none of them approached the duo even though Bradford knew he was almost certainly distracting them with how loud he was shouting. They must have reasoned that there was a purpose behind the actions of their Central Officer and opted not to question or interrupt the unusual workout.

"That's it, Sergeant!" He encouraged as she lifted her chin above the pull-up bar for the twentieth time, "That's the Yang Xaio Long I know. I need ten more of those. _You_ need ten more of those."

"Ten?" Yang scoffed, "You know I can do twenty."

"I'm sorry, did I say ten? I meant thirty."

Yang looked back at him, a gleam in her eye, "Thirty-five."

Bradford held her gaze, a grin spreading across his face, "Forty, and I'll owe you a beer after this."

" _Oh, it's fucking on._ "

Late morning found the Central Officer relaxing with Yang in the lounge. The entire way from the showers to the bar, Yang talked animatedly with Bradford about workouts, combat training with MECs, and the various weapon payloads she would get to haul into operations. He enjoyed seeing the energetic huntress act like her old self again after the unusual outburst he witnessed this morning. The two of them sat down with a pitcher of beer while they continued their conversation about 'special combat maneuvers' Yang wanted to try out with the MEC suits.

"So I was thinking, you're sticking two huntresses into some kickass hardware, right? Well, we've got some talents and capabilities your other operators don't, so why not make the most of it?" Yang took a swig of her drink while Bradford listened with amusement, "Now, I know what you're thinking: 'Yang, you silly goose, you're locked out of your Aura, so what could your huntressing possibly do to crank up the kickassitude of my bitchin' warbots?' "

"Is that how you imagine I talk, Sergeant?" Bradford asked.

Yang nodded, "Oh, totally. But more to the point, I've been talking with Vahlen. You know those Aura modules she developed for my team? The ones that burn out after a single use? Well, she's been telling me that one of the limiting factors in the technology is the portability. But since two of us will now be capable of carrying several more tons worth of gear..."

"... she wants to try to make a reusable module." The Central Officer stroked his chin, "That's a pretty interesting proposition, actually."

"It is! And there's a bunch of ways we can take advantage of Aura in our suits. It'll help us boost our armor, improve our agility, use our semblances, and probably punch harder as well. If you think a Kinetic Strike Module is badass, just wait until you see me using it! Man, I can't wait to start training with Blake."

And just like that, Bradford watched a switch get flipped in Yang's mind. He considered trying to get her mind off of Blake like he had in the gym. However, that would only serve as a temporary solution to the bigger issue. At some point, Yang needed to sort out her emotions about the day's events, and Bradford figured that sooner was better than later, _especially_ since the young huntress had someone waiting and willing to talk with her about it. For now, he'd continue to nurse his beer and watch the movie playing in the lounge while his companion sorted out what she wanted to say.

After five minutes of 'Lethal Weapon' went by without a word from Yang, Bradford stole a quick glance at the young woman. She wore a dark look as she stared into her nearly-empty glass with slightly glassy eyes. Perhaps waiting for her to speak first wasn't the best idea.

"Xiao Long." He said, and Yang looked up at him listlessly, "Penny for your thoughts."

Her eyes dropped back to the glass, which she gave a half-hearted swirl before asking, "You think I fucked up?"

Bradford reached for the pitcher and re-filled Yang's glass, "How do you mean?"

She held up her hand and flexed her mechanical fingers, "Getting my limbs cut off. Was it a mistake?"

The Central Officer shrugged, "I think the answer to that is ultimately up to you. Given the conviction I've seen you capable of, you could find a way to weaponize a wet piece of cardboard and make it worthwhile." He took a sip from his mug, "You made a great sacrifice, Xiao Long. It's up to you to figure out how to deal with it going forward."

"Dust, you sound like Zhang with his zen bullshit." Yang sighed, "I just... I did it for _her_ , you know? Seeing Blake on that operating table, Vahlen's techs trying to keep her guts where they were supposed to be while the automated machinery implanted the meld into her shoulders and hips... there's no way she'd come out of that emotionally intact."

She took a swig from her glass before continuing, "Blake already has issues with running away from her problems, in case you couldn't figure that out already. I put myself in her shoes for a moment and imagined waking up without my limbs. The rest of my team would try to act all positive and shit to help me get over it, but I'd feel all alone. They wouldn't understand what it's like to have tin pegs for arms and legs." Yang glanced up at Bradford with a sheepish smile, "Ah, no offense to Shen's handiwork."

"None taken." The Central Officer answered with a smile of his own, "So you thought that putting yourself in a similar situation would give Sergeant Belladonna a sort of grounding point?"

Yang nodded, "That was the idea, yeah. But fat lot of good that did. She's probably off in the darkest corner of the base that she can find so that nobody can help her while she plays the part of the dark, brooding anti-hero."

"And what about you?"

"Say what?" Yang asked, eyebrow raised.

"You're spending all this energy worrying about Blake, trying to make sure she comes out of this okay, that I don't know if you've given any thought to your own well-being." Bradford clarified, "You went through the same life-changing experience, and yet all I'm hearing is how you're concerned about Sergeant Belladonna."

The huntress rolled her eyes, "I'm fine, boss. You don't see _me_ hiding away from the world and my problems."

"No, but I saw you storm into the gym ready to murder the first machine you set your eyes on." Bradford countered, "I'm honestly surprised I'm still alive and having this conversation with you."

"I was angry." Yang explained, "That's not the same."

"No, but it's still a symptom of a problem. You can blame your partner all you want, but I think there's a deeper issue at play."

"So, what? Are you a psychologist as well as a central intelligence officer?" Yang asked, a hint of derision in her voice, "I'm sure we could find a couch somewhere around here for me to lie down on."

Bradford gave her a hard look, "I've been in this business for longer than you've been alive, Sergeant. There have been more times than I've cared to admit when I noticed something 'off' with one of my operatives, and my failure to investigate the cause resulted in... irreparable damage."

Yang rolled her eyes, "If you think I'm a loony that's going to stick a handgun down my throat and-"

"Xiao Long." Yang had never heard Bradford sound dangerous before, but she was beginning to regret running her mouth off, "Finish that sentence, and you disrespect not only the friends and associates I've personally lost to depression, but the hundreds and thousands of others that lose that fight every year. Think _very carefully_ about what you are saying, and ask yourself this: what makes you think you're so special that you are immune to the horrors of war? Just because you have an Aura, a pair of shotgun gauntlets, and the ability to inflict an absurd amount of devastation with the flick of a wrist? How does that insulate your mind, _your soul_ , from all of the stress that I've seen leave highly-trained men and women curled up in a ball and begging to go home?"

Bradford watched as Yang looked ready to fire back some sort of snarky retort, but the words got caught in her mouth. Her eyes shone with a mixture of indignant rage and helpless frustration as she tried to think of something to say.

"How do you do it?" She asked quietly, eyes dropping down to the table, "Deal with all of..." Yang waved her hand in the air, as if that would clarify what she meant, "This?"

Bradford shrugged, "Sometimes? I don't. Some of the things I've seen, the mistakes I've made... I'll stare at the ceiling, desperately hoping for sleep to come, yet all I see are the faces of those I've wronged. Who are dead because of me" He sighed and down the rest of the alcohol in his glass, "But you know what helps? I talk to people. The operatives here may joke about how Dr. Vahlen is a heartless witch whose calculating demeanor leaves no room for compassion, but that couldn't possibly be further from the truth. I would be nothing like the Central Officer you've come to know if it wasn't for her advice, friendship, and open ear."

Yang rolled her eyes, "Am I supposed to sit in a circle with my team while we hold hands and sing Kumbaya? Is that what you're saying?"

The Central Officer raised an eyebrow, "I'm surprised you even know what that is."

"I don't." Yang answered as a smile slowly returned to her face, "But sarcasm is a universal language."

Bradford snorted, "Fair enough. But to the point: I'm not telling you to fix yourself, Yang. I'm not even saying that anything is broken. What I _am_ saying is that it helps to have people to talk to. Just as you're so keen to help Sergeant Belladonna through this rough transition, there are people who would gladly do the same for you."

"So why haven't they?" Yang asked, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Because they don't realize you need it." Bradford pointed out, "Because you're so gung-ho about everything, nobody even thinks to ask if anything is wrong." He took another sip from his glass before adding, "Neither did I until I witnessed your outburst this morning."

Yang sighed, "I guess that's true. I guess... I just don't want my friends to worry about me, you know? They've got bigger fish to fry without worrying about ol' Yang going off the deep end and doing something stupid." Bradford raised an eyebrow and Yang groaned, "Okay, yeah, that sounded pretty bad when I said it out loud."

Bradford nodded before his expression turned serious, "I think what you need to realize is that it's not a sign of weakness to let your friends help you shoulder the burden of whatever it is that's weighing you down. It doesn't make you weak, nor does it mean that you are any less of a talented and accomplished operative, huntress, or fighter. It just means that you're strong enough to not let your pride get in the way of letting those who care about you do something that they feel is important.

"And hey." The Central Officer continued, his smile returning, "If you're not comfortable with going to them, my door's always open."

Yang grinned back at him, "How about your wallet? Because this beer is doing a pretty good job of helping me feel better."

"I don't know about where you come from on Remnant," Bradford said, "But on Earth? An addiction to beer is known as 'alcoholism.' "

"I'm _quite_ familiar with drunks, trust me." Yang answered with a laugh, "One of these days, I'll introduce you to my uncle."

Bradford nodded, "I'll look forward to it. Listen, I've got to get back to Mission Control. Why don't you get started on that whole 'talk to people thing' and go looking for your partner?"

Yang sighed, "I was kinda hoping I could avoid the heart-to-heart for a while longer. How do I even start the conversation after what happened this morning?"

"Just start by saying hi." Bradford answered with a shrug, "And don't forget that it's not all about you helping her through this. It's about the two of you helping each other."

Yang chugged the last of her beer and stood up, "It'll be weird talking about myself. I've only ever done it once before with Blake, and that was to prove a point about something _she_ was doing that was wrong."

"Baby steps, Xiao Long. I'm not asking you to spill your guts or ask her to help you with everything going in inside your head." Bradford winked, "Just the five percent that's holding you back."

Yang groaned, "I think I've had enough of Dr. Bradford for the day. Off you go, boss. I'll take care of cleaning up."

With a casual salute, the Central Officer headed for the exit to the lounge. Just as his mind started switching gears and running through the mental checklist of tasks he needed to complete for the day, he heard Yang call out, "Hey Brad?"

He glanced back with a questioning eyebrow, "Sergeant?"

"... Thanks."

"Anytime, Xiao Long." He responded before resuming his walk to Mission Control, "Anytime."


	5. Ice Queens

A/N: You know what's lame? Getting ganked by a combination of class projects, class finals, and jury duty. Seriously, I've been on this damn jury since the beginning of April, and it's likely to go on for another few weeks at least. Finals will be done after this week, though, so that's nice.

You know what _isn't_ lame? How much fun I had writing this chapter. Seriously, Weiss and Vahlen is one of my favorite BroTPs that's come out of this AU, and I loved writing more content for them.

As always, I don't put these chapters through a rigorous review process, so please let me know if you spot any errors that I may have missed.

* * *

 _Weiss's Log_

 _Day 1_

 _I have completed my initial assessment of Doctor Vahlen's social decorum. While she has the... potential to carry a pleasant conversation, it is my conclusion that we have quite a bit of work ahead of us if the good doctor is to overcome the reputation she has built for herself._

"Okay, doctor. Whenever you're ready."

Dr. Vahlen closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning her attention to Weiss and flashing a smile, "Good morning, Operative Schnee! How are you today?"

 _Smile could use some work, and her speaking is a little too rigid. Still, not a bad start._

"I am feeling quite well, thank you." Weiss responded, tipping her head and offering a polite smile of her own.

"Have you suffered any injuries since the last time I've seen you?"

Weiss blinked, "Uhh, no..."

"Head trauma?"

"No."

"Plasma burns?"

"Doctor, I-"

Dr. Vahlen ignored Weiss's protest and closed the gap between their faces, using her thumb to gently pull up on the young huntress's eyebrow while clicking on a flashlight with her free hand.

"Pupil is constricting, as expected. No signs of-"

"Vahlen!" Weiss shouted angrily, batting away the doctor's hand, "We are trying to have a casual conversation! This is _not_ a physical examination."

Dr. Vahlen's eyes widened when she realized her error, and she immediately stepped back from Weiss. She cast her gaze to the floor and let out a sigh, "I'm... I'm sorry, Miss Schnee. It's just that-"

"Weiss."

The Chief Scientist looked up in confusion, "Beg your pardon?"

"Call me Weiss." The young huntress clarified, "The point of this is to help you become more social is it not? You called me Operative in your opening, and now you're calling me Miss. While I appreciate the formality, it runs counter to our goal here. So from now on, call me Weiss."

"I... yes, Weiss." Vahlen answered.

"Very good. And since we're going to be on a first-name basis, I find myself in the awkward situation of not knowing yours." Weiss admitted, "I've only ever heard you referred to as 'Doctor' or 'Vahlen.' "

The implied question seemed to startle Vahlen, "Oh! That's a good point, actually. To be honest, I think the Central Officer and Dr. Shen are the only ones who know my first name."

 _I don't actually know theirs either. One thing at a time, I suppose._

Vahlen tried another smile and held out her hand to Weiss, "My name is Moira Vahlen. Nice to meet you."

Weiss took her hand and gently shook it, "Weiss Schnee. The pleasure is mine."

* * *

 _Weiss's Log_

 _Day 5_

 _We are making progress. At the very least, I have managed to suppress Vahlen's medical and scientific instincts (a monumental task in and of itself). I think our first foray outside of Vahlen's laboratory was met with positive results._

"Where are we going?" Vahlen asked, her voice slightly shaky as she followed Weiss down the hall.

"Somewhere that isn't your lab or the engineering floor." Weiss sighed, "When was the last time you've been anywhere else in the base?"

"Well, the technicians in the power block reported some curious phenomena with the Elerium generator last week, so I-"

"That doesn't count. When was the last time you've been anywhere else in the base _for the sole purpose of enjoying yourself_?"

"I... well, I... Umm..." Vahlen's nervous glance was met by Weiss's expectant stare, and the doctor shrugged.

Weiss's point made, she returned her attention to the hallway, "My point exactly. Follow me."

"But where are we going?" Vahlen whined.

"To the place people go when they wish to be social: the lounge."

Vahlen stopped in her tracks, "No..."

Weiss sighed, grabbing the doctor's hand and pulling her along, "Yes. Now stop being a baby and come on."

"But I've never been there before! People are going to look at me funny and wonder what I'm doing sitting in the lounge!"

"And that's exactly why we have to do this, Moira." Weiss gently explained, turning around to face her 'student,' "The whole point of this is for you to lose the stigma of the 'She-Witch.' To do that, you have to become more social. To do that, you have to get used to acting in social situations. We're going to start with baby steps. The two of us will go the lounge. I'll buy us one drink each. We have a small conversation while we enjoy our wine. We go back to the lab. Very simple."

"I... suppose that's acceptable." Vahlen admitted, once again following Weiss to their destination.

"Now, I suppose I should ask: are you more of a red wine or white wine person?"

Vahlen contemplated the question before answering, "I... suppose red wine?"

"Good." Weiss answered simply.

A few steps later, the duo stepped foot into the lounge. Almost immediately, the casual conversations around them stopped as a multitude of curious faces followed their journey to an empty table. It took all of Vahlen's willpower to not spin around and run out of the room. She reminded herself that Weiss was doing her a _tremendous_ favor by helping her become more social, and the doctor didn't want to disappoint her new friend. Still, she couldn't help but hunch her shoulders slightly as she felt the stares burning into her back while Weiss walked over to the bar.

Vahlen pulled out her datapad and distracted herself with work to avoid imagining what everyone in the room was thinking about upon her arrival. She looked up at the sound of Weiss clearing her throat.

"This is a social outing, doctor." Weiss said, avoiding the use of Vahlen's first name in the presence of all the personnel in the lounge, "Put your work away, please."

"O-of course." Vahlen stammered, stowing her tablet and accepting the glass Weiss held out for her, "Thank you for the wine."

"I'm still acquainting myself with the different names used on Earth." Weiss said as she sat down across from Vahlen, "But I think this Merlot is the closest counterpart to my preferred variety from Remnant."

"Did you know that one of the most famous wines comes from Germany?" Vahlen asked, eager to latch on to a topic and avoid thinking about everyone else in the room, "Our Eiswein is in high demand around the world. If you ever get the opportunity, I _highly_ recommend trying some..."

* * *

 _Weiss's Log_

 _Day 14_

 _Vahlen's initiative to visit us in the lounge of her own accord was... impressive. However, while she started with a strong opening, it appears that we still need to practice longevity in her social interactions._

"So, a round of drinks on me? That's how this works, right?"

A cheer erupted from the operatives sitting around the newly-nicknamed huntresses of Strike Eight. Vahlen walked off to get some fresh pitchers from the bar, and Vance cast an amused glance at Weiss.

"What have you been feeding her? I heard the rumors of operatives claiming they saw her in the lounge about a week ago, but I never thought they were _true_."

Weiss shrugged, "I've just been helping the doctor force herself out of her comfort zone and providing guidance on how to act when she's in those situations. I'm rather proud of how much she's improved since we started working together."

"Kinda funny when you think about it." Vance mused, "The doctor is now the patient."

"I wouldn't go so far as to call her a patient. Just a well-meaning individual who needs some pointers on social decorum. And considering how successful she is in some other aspects of her life, I'd say she's earned a pass on this."

Vance nodded, "Fair enough."

"Who wants some Weissbier?" Vahlen asked upon her return, and a round of cheers and raised glasses answered her question, "It was... the only name I recognized, plus I felt like it would be a fitting brew to dedicate to my friend, Weiss."

Weiss smiled at the compliment as she watched the Chief Scientist pour out a measure of alcohol into each outstretched glass. Once everyone had a share, Vahlen raised up her own glass.

"To Elsa!" She said, a pleased smile gracing her face, "A good friend and a great operative."

The rest of the operatives echoed Vahlen's toast, and the energy in the lounge increased eightfold. New operatives wandered in after hearing that the huntresses of Strike Eight had received their nicknames, and they were more than happy to partake in the alochol-imbibing festivities. More rounds of Weissbier were acquired, along with several other variants, and Weiss politely chatted with everyone who came up to greet her. In the background, she kept an eye on Vahlen to see how her friend was holding up.

Vance talked with her first, and while Weiss couldn't hear their conversation over the general ruckus, she noted the smile on Vahlen's face. Eventually, the Major left to to talk with some other operatives, and the Chief Scientist looked a little lost amidst the energy of the room. She'd smile and nod whenever someone came up to thank her for the round of drinks, but failed repeatedly to engage the operative or technician in conversation. In a matter of minutes, Weiss watched Vahlen retreat to the corner of a couch and pull out her work tablet, and she stayed that way until the young huntress approached her and cleared her throat.

Vahlen looked up and winced at the look Weiss gave her, "Ah... hello, Weiss. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"You're clearly not." Weiss answered, nodding at the tablet, "I believe we already talked about this, Doctor. Why aren't you talking to people? It looked like you were having a lovely conversation with Major Vance, and then... this."

Vahlen sighed, and tucked the device into her lab coat, "Vance approached me. He's one of what Bradfard calls the 'Old Guard,' with XCOM since the beginning. I've known him long before I got this stupid reputation. It was easier to talk to him, I guess. Everyone else just wanted to say thanks for the beer before moving on to chat with their own friends rather than the scary mad scientist who tortures aliens for fun."

Weiss hummed at Vahlen's answer. While she didn't appreciate the last bit of self-deprecating humor, the comment about the Major intrigued Weiss. If Vance was one of the senior operatives at XCOM, it would make sense that he was more friendly with Vahlen. Still, that didn't justify the doctor's decision to just give up after he left.

"Part of social interaction is forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, Doctor." Weiss explained, "You took an admirable first step by joining us in the recreation center, and your offer to buy the round of beer was likewise a good move. But you can't just stop there and hope for the rest to magically fall into place. Come on, at least join my team at the table and talk with us if you're uncomfortable talking with anyone else."

Vahlen nodded, and Weiss noted that she looked slightly ashamed, "That sounds nice. Thank you, Weiss."

Weiss gave her friend a pat on the back as the two of them moved to rejoin the rest of RWBY, "We'll get the hang of this, I promise."

* * *

 _Weiss's Log_

 _Day 60_

 _Ever since... That Mission, I haven't really been in the mood to do much of anything. I would even go so far as to say that my promise to help Vahlen is one of the few things that let me focus on a constructive objective and allow me to keep moving forward. As amusing as the thought is, there may be some truth to the idea that working with Vahlen is helping me as much as it is her._

Weiss and Vahlen sat at their usual table in the lounge. A lull in the conversation allowed the two of them to sit in psuedo-comfortable silence and determine whether or not the beer in their glasses was worth refilling or if they were better off trying something else. Weiss was in the middle of deciding that these 'Stouts' that Yang raved about really weren't that great when Vahlen interrupted her train of thought.

"They look like they're off to do something fun."

Weiss looked up to see Yang herself with Blake in tow, a massive bag slung over the former's back while the latter held a volleyball under her arm. Ever since Blake woke up after Vahlen's surgery, Yang had taken it upon herself to try and raise her partner's spirits and get Blake in fighting form. This backfired horribly at first, but Blake seemed to be finally coming around and humoring Yang's efforts.

"I'm glad Blake is opening up a little." Weiss commented, "I heard that Yang nearly destroyed the weight room after the first time Blake ditched her."

Vahlen laughed, "I heard the story firsthand from the Central Officer. He said he'd never seen someone look so angry... an impressive feat, considering how many egotistical gung-ho types he's had to deal with in his career." She took a sip from her glass and cast a curious glance at Weiss, "On the subject of partners, I haven't seen you spend much time with Ruby lately."

"What does that mean?" Weiss asked with an indignant huff, "Do you think I'm failing in my duties as a partner?"

"Duties as a partner... and I thought _I_ was the one that struggled with social etiquette. I'm talking about _spending time as her friend,_ _you dolt_." Vahlen explained, lightly punching her friend's arm for emphasis.

Weiss yelped in surprise, "Hey! I spend time with her. I'm just not attaching myself to the hip like Yang is with Blake."

"Given how miss Rose is practically living in the back of Doctor Shen's office, I'd say she could use a little more downtime with her best friend."

Weiss was extremely tempted to fire back with a snarky retort. Best friend? _Please_. Surely Ruby had closer friends, given her intelligence and goofy personality. The two of them maintained a very professional partnership for the sake of their mutual interest in becoming excellent huntresses. But just as soon as the thought entered her mind, so too did a slideshow of memories that supported Vahlen's observation. When they first met, initiation, the food fight... looking back, Weiss realized that Ruby put her best foot forward right out of the gate. Granted, a Dust explosion wasn't the greatest of first impressions, but when Weiss looked beyond that, she saw a girl completely out of her social element just trying to see where she fit in.

And Weiss? It took a (rather embarrassing) scolding from Professor Port to make her realize that indignation and a holier-than-thou attitude didn't solve everything, and even that was only enough to get Weiss to view her partner as an unfortunate necessity to proving her own worth. But between then and now... something changed. She remembered Strike Eight's first field operation, and how relieved she felt the moment she pulled Ruby into a hug after putting down the Sectoid ambush. Relieved, not because the loss of a partner would be an unfortunate roadblock on her way to greatness, but because she had almost lost the only real friend she'd ever known.

Perhaps the doctor had a point, and Weiss was too dense to see it. Vahlen apparently noticed the comprehension growing on Weiss's face, given the smile that crossed her own, "Not so easy to analyze a situation when it's your own, hmm?"

"Shut up." Weiss grumbled, "Besides, Ruby's been super-busy lately. Not only that, but it's helping her work through her guilt over losing the Major. I... can't justify trying to pull Ruby away from something she needs to fight her inner demons."

"Something she _thinks_ she needs." Vahlen corrected with a pointed look, " While I appreciate you spending your time in the lab to assist my research team with your wealth of knowledge about Dust, I think Ruby needs a friend more than a plasma torch right about now."

The two of them lapsed back into silence after Vahlen's comment.

The Doctor cast an amused glance at Weiss, "Maybe you guys could paint your nails and try on clothes and talk about cute-"

The huntress cut her off with a groan, "Please tell me that's the only story that Ruby's told you about our partnership."

"Nope. And it's called a friendship."

* * *

 _Weiss's Log_

 _Day 124_

 _Ruby's been bedridden after a nasty encounter with these new Ethereals. It was bad enough when one mind controlled her the first time, but this one... it did something different. Or maybe the effects were dormant from the first event, I don't really know. What I do know is that I was shaken a lot more than I should have been when Doctor Vahlen gave me the full analysis of Ruby's condition. And while a small part of my mind was concerned at the loss of such a valuable field asset, I realized that the rest of it was panicking over the loss of my best friend._

 _Maybe Moira was right after all._

Dr. Vahlen stepped into the Medbay, datapad in hand. While a few operatives were recovering from minor plasma burns, sprains, or similar injuries, Vahlen's main purpose in stopping by was to check on Ruby. Initial tests and data feeds from devices wired up to the Lieutenant's biometrics seemed to confirm (or at least heavily support) the link between Ruby's Aura and her body's... extreme reaction to psionic damage. Vahlen wanted to both deliver the news to Ruby and perform a few physical tests that would further support the theory. She stopped short, however, when she noticed a familiar white ponytail poking out over the top of a guest chair situated next to Ruby's bed.

"Hello Doctor." Weiss greeted.

Vahlen resumed walking and put a friendly hand on her friend's shoulder, "Hello Weiss. How is our patient doing?"

"Sleeping, as usual." Weiss responded before looking up from the scroll in her hand, "She's been sleeping almost three times as much as she usually does."

"I'm not surprised. This wound must be putting a considerable strain on her psyche. The sleep is probably good for her."

"I hope so." Weiss sighed.

Vahlen pulled up a chair and sat down next to the young huntress, "And how about you? I only ever see you in that chair ever since Ruby's been admitted for medical treatment. Yang tells me that you only leave to get food or to stretch for five minutes before coming back."

"I'm just worried is all." Weiss explained, "Ruby looked pretty devastated when she admitted to the rest of us that she thinks her Aura is broken, and I can tell that her efforts to be cheerful when she's awake are purely for my sake. Until we get this business with her head straightened out, the Ruby I know isn't in there."

"We'll get her on her feet again, Weiss. I promise. Initial data has given me a couple of strong leads, and each new test result is helping me zero in on the answer. Even if I don't completely understand how Aura works, it's still very much possible to observe how it interacts and affects the biological systems I _do_ understand.

"But I'm also worried about you, and as much as I'm sure Ruby appreciates your company, she likely feels the same. It's not healthy to let something consume your every waking moment, which is what I see happening here." A smile spread across Vahlen's face, "If I'm not mistaken, you were the one that taught me that."

"Weren't you the one that told me I needed to spend _more_ time with Ruby?" Weiss asked.

"This isn't what I meant, and you know it." Vahlen countered with an eye roll, "Ruby doesn't need you standing vigil 24/7 while she sleeps. So long as you visit her a few times a day and keep her spirits up, I think it would be better if you rejoined the rest of us at XCOM instead of living in that chair. When did Ruby fall asleep?"

Weiss checked her scroll, "About twenty minutes ago."

"Why don't you join me in the lab for a bit? The servers are processing the latest batch of spectral analysis data, and should be done in a few hours. Why don't we watch a movie to pass the time, and then you can help me parse the results when we're done?"

After casting a glance at Ruby's sleeping form, Weiss nodded, "Yeah, okay. Did you have any particular movie in mind? I think we've blown through your entire Disney collection by now."

Vahlen smiled, "Correct, so I think it's time we branch out and introduce you to Pixar. I think Toy Story would be a good place for us to start."

* * *

A/N: My latest headcanon is that Vahlen knows all the Disney and Pixar animated films by heart, as they've been her closest companions since the near-impossible academic expectations of her parent resulted in a catastrophically stunted social growth. Her favorite Disney princess is Mulan, because Vahlen is able to identify with the process of working as hard as it takes to reach a goal that nobody thought was possible.

And now I have a headcanon of Vahlen and Zhang organizing a Mulan movie night in the lounge.


	6. Travel Plans

"So where to first?"

The question took Blake Belladonna by surprise, though she realized in hindsight that she should have seen it coming. With the war over and global security beginning to shift into autopilot, it made sense that Bradford didn't need the supernatural talent of RWBY and JNPR. After all that talk for months about "when the war's over, you _totally_ need to visit X, Y, and Z," it was only a matter of time before the Central Officer finally got around to asking the question.

"No takers?" Bradford asked, mildly surprised at the lack of an energetic response. It seemed like Blake wasn't the only one who froze at the magnitude of Bradford's question and it's inherent implications.

They could go anywhere, she realized. Unlike Remnant's options of 'Vale, Atlas, Mistral, Vacuo, and _everywhere else that was overrun by Grimm_ ,' Blake suddenly had the entirety of Earth at her disposal. Did she want to spend time exploring some of the natural wonders of North America? Or maybe visit the island of Japan, like everyone said she needed to? Or, perhaps, she could find a nice beach in Argentina and curl up with a good book under an umbrella while Yang went off to flirt with all the toned, shirtless locals?

"I think I'd like to start with France." Weiss answered, "I've heard a lot about it from Annette, and she seemed extremely excited at the prospect of showing us around her homeland. And from there, it would be a short trip to Germany to see some of the sights that Dr. Vahlen is so proud of. What do you think, Ruby?"

Blake's bubbly team leader nodded at Weiss's suggestion, "Sounds good to me! I'm pretty sure I'll have a good time wherever we go."

At least Ruby seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride, though Weiss clicked her tongue in mild disapproval, "Honestly, Ruby... we only have a limited time before Vahlen and Shen get us back to Remnant, so we need to be tactical with where we choose to visit! The Earth is a big place, and there's no way we'll be able to see everything before it's time to go back."

"But that's why I have yoouuuuu." Ruby whined, "And besides, wouldn't you rather have someone who's willing to go along with your plans instead of someone who butts heads with you over every little decision?"

"I want someone who is able to think for herself, especially when that someone is my partner and team leader."

"But I thought for myself all the time during the last eight months! It's your turn to think for me now."

Blake tuned out the (admittedly adorable) squabbling and continued her silent introspection. Where did she want to go? She assumed that wherever she decided to go, Yang would be coming along as well. So maybe she could start by finding places that her partner might find interesting and go from there. But wait, what if Yang was just like Ruby? Blake could definitely see her partner leaving the decision up to Blake, thus putting the two of them back at square one.

She decided to start by thinking of impressive natural landmarks that caught her interest. Given that exploring remote regions on Remnant was the surest way of becoming Grimm food, capitalizing on Earth's (relative) safety seemed like a good idea. America had no shortage of national monuments and parks, Blake recalled, but other countries had equally awe-inspiring feats of nature. Iguazu Falls in Argentina, the Great Barrier Reef of Australia (though Blake wasn't particularly keen on the idea of snorkeling), the Yangtze River in China... the list went on. But at least Blake now had something to work with.

"Australia!" Nora exclaimed happily, "I just remembered that I have a bet with Beagle about bagging myself a Drop Bear."

"Drop Bears don't exist, Nora." Ren countered, "The Captain was just teasing you."

"Oh, is that so?" Nora asked, her face looming in front of Ren's, "And why should I believe you? What if The Beags promised you a cut of the bet money to say that? What if the two of you are in... _cahoots_?"

Her partner sighed, clearly realizing the futility of his efforts, "Australia it is."

"YES!"

Alright, so that ruled out Australia, at least for a first choice. While she probably could still go, Blake didn't want to seem like she was just drawing inspiration from Nora. She'd already done too much internal struggling to simply 'give up' like that. Well, she better think of something quick, because Jaune and Pyrrha were the only buffer that remained between Blake and utter humiliation. Of all the people being asked to choose travel destinations, it would be pretty awkward if the only one who actually spent time reading about Earth's many wonders was also the only one who couldn't decide on a place to go.

Maybe asking Yang for her opinion wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. The worst she could do is pull a Ruby and say she'd be happy with whatever Blake wanted, right? She wouldn't be better or worse for asking, but at least Blake could say she tried.

She caught her partner's eye and asked, "Ideas?"

Yang raised an eyebrow, "Figured you would be the one with a million different places you wanted to go."

 _Oh, if you only knew, Yang._

"Don't worry about that." Blake muttered, "Help me narrow it down."

Bradford held his hands up, and Blake noticed that he looked slightly embarrassed, "I didn't mean to put you guys on the spot. If you need some time to think it over, that's fine. I'd much rather have you go somewhere you really want to visit instead of the first place that springs to mind."

"Wait, are the kiddies figuring out where they want to go on vacation?"

MacAuley poked his head around the doorway into the conference room, a grin stretching from ear to ear, "So who's going where?"

"Weiss and Ruby are going to France, Nora and Ren are going to Australia, and the other four haven't decided yet." Bradford summarized.

"Weeeellllllll, if anyone is interested in visiting Ireland," MacAuley stared straight at Jaune, "I'd be happy to be your humble tour guide and take your lovely lass on a pub crawl or five."

"That sounds like something up Yang's alley." Jaune said, glancing over at Blake and her partner, "Ireland sound good to you guys?"

Pyrrha giggled, "Jaune... I think the Sergeant was specifically inviting us to go with him to Ireland."

The Irishman nodded in confirmation before rolling his eyes, "Honestly, Nikos. How do you deal with someone _that dense_?"

"Oh believe me, it's quite hard at times." She answered, smiling sweetly.

"Hey!"

"... But he has his moments that make up for them." She added, giving her partner a friendly punch to the shoulder, "Ireland sounds like a grand idea, Conor."

 _And then there were two,_ Blake thought miserably. As expected, all eyes fell on her, and the huntress had to fight the urge to shrink away from the attention.

"So what'll it be, Sabretooth?" MacAuley asked, unaware of how uncomfortable the situation was becoming for Blake, "I've seen you huddled over all those books these past months. You probably know more cool shit about this floating rock called Earth than I do at this point."

"I... don't know." Blake admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, "Hey, I just remembered something I need to do. I'll see you guys later."

Without even looking to see how the others reacted to her departure, Blake practically ran out of the room. Still, her superior hearing let her catch MacAuley asking Bradford, "Was it something I said?"

Once she rounded the first corner in Mission Control, Blake started to silently run. She knew that if she continued to simply walk away, Yang would try to catch up with her and talk. At the moment, all Blake wanted to do was be alone.

Or, at least, with someone who understood her need for peace and quiet.

* * *

Dr. Shen looked up from the paperwork littering his desk at the sound of knocking on his office door.

"... Hello Blake." He said, unable to hide the confusion in his voice when he discovered the identity of his visitor, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"May I come in?" The huntress asked, her eyes glued to the ground.

Shen nodded, "Of course. I was just about to make some tea for myself. Shall I pour you a cup?"

"That sounds nice."

Blake stepped past the Chief Engineer without a word, and Shen closed the door behind her before setting off to prepare two cups of tea. Though he'd known Blake to be the most reclusive of the Remnant bunch, even Shen could tell that something in particular was bothering her today.

"Is Jasmine alright?"

"Yes."

The elderly man set down both cups on the table before taking a seat across from his guest.

"Would you prefer to drink your tea in silence, or is there something you'd like to talk about?" Dr. Shen asked as he watched the tea leaves release their flavor into his cup of hot water.

For a long time, Blake said nothing. Shen didn't press the question and instead tended to his own cup while the muffled sounds of the machine floor played in the background. Much like some of his testing equipment, it was best to approach Blake Belladonna with the finesse of a gentle and patient hand. Trying to force a desired behavior or result would only result in frustration for the operator. No, it was necessary to approach her with a peaceful attitude and the understanding that one might not come away with the desired result no matter how careful they are. While the Chief Engineer was making a mental note to never tell Blake that he'd silently compared her to a Spectrum Analyzer, she spoke up.

"If you were me, and you suddenly had the option to go anywhere in the world..." She looked up and, for the first time since entering his office, locked eyes with Dr. Shen, "Where would you go?"

The Chief Engineer hummed thoughtfully. So this was the root of Blake's current mood. Since he didn't know what kind of answer she wanted (or needed), he decided to open up with a bit of levity and sentimentality, "Personally? I would go back home to California and visit my little Lily. I haven't seen her since this war started, and I think it's about time for me to see my daughter again." He smiled at Blake, "But I don't think that's what you were looking for when you asked me your question."

Blake shook her head before sampling the tea, "Though it would be nice to meet Lily after hearing your stories about her childhood, I think your reunion should be a private affair without strangers watching."

"Ah." Shen said, finally guessing where Blake's troubles lay, "It's time for your well-deserved R&R, isn't it?"

"And I can't think of where I want to go." The huntress answered, finishing the unasked part of Shen's question, "It's just... staggering, you know? Put yourself in my place for a minute. All my life, I've been forced to confine my travels within the safe borders of Vale. Sure, I could venture out for a day trip if I'm prepared and going with capable company, but the world as I know it is only a small corner of Remnant. Add to that the fact that I'm a faunus, which means that I'm not welcome in some of the more affluent parts of the kingdom, which only further limits the places I can go. Even with four kingdoms, the ratio of safe places to travel versus Grimm territory is horribly imbalanced in favor of the latter.

"Then I come here, and again, my life is confined to the caverns and hallways of XCOM HQ. For eight months, the anthill has been my home while the war raged on outside. Sure, I've caught glimpses of the rest of the world during operations, but I've always had the threat of aliens and EXALT trying to kill me whenever I'm topside, which doesn't leave much chance to really enjoy wherever I end up going on the Skyranger. Now, there's no threat, and my options for where to go have suddenly expanded beyond the scope of what I'm apparently comfortable with. I've _never_ had this much freedom in my life, and I'm not sure why I seem to be the only one bothered by this." She finished, a tinge of misery in her voice.

An interesting conundrum, and not one Shen was entirely sure he was qualified to comment on. Still, he knew he had to try, so he took a sip of his tea, gathered his thoughts, and put together an answer for his troubled friend.

"I'd like to say that I can relate to your problem, that I have some story from my past that gives me insight that could help you deal with your problem. But I don't. Aside from this past year, I've lived a pretty comfortable life from start to finish. I've never felt restricted due to external or internal events, such as the ones that you have described.

"However," He added, noting the downcast look on Blake's face, "The good fortune I've enjoyed in my life _has_ given me plenty of perspective when it comes to traveling, and I will happily share it with you."

Dr. Shen took a sip of his tea and smiled at his guest, "My accomplished career as an engineer has taken me all over the world, from Taiwan, to America, to England, to Russia, and even to Egypt. I can tell you that no matter where I went, no matter how exotic and culturally-rich my destination was, there was always one single factor that played the biggest role in determining how much I enjoyed my time: the company I kept."

"Your daughter." Blake guessed.

The old man nodded, "Or in my younger years, my wife. But the idea remains the same. Depending on how tight my business schedule was on a trip, I sometimes had the opportunity to bring along loved ones and spend some free time exploring the city and local surroundings with them. Trying to do the same while on my own..." Shen shook his head, "It wasn't the same. But strolling through a museum with my wife, or going on a hike with Lily? Some of my best memories are of the time I spent exploring the world with those I care about."

Another sip of jasmine tea forced a pause in Dr. Shen's narrative and gave Blake some time to parse the meaning behind his words.

"You have people you care about, many of whom are with you right now. And I know for a fact that one in particular cares a great deal about you, too. She'd probably give up an arm and a leg if it made you happy."

Blake rolled her eyes as the Chief Engineer gave her a wink, but she couldn't stop a smile from briefly flitting across her face, "That's enough, doctor."

"I apologize, Blake." Shen said with a chuckle, "But do you see what I'm trying to tell you? No matter where you decide to go with miss Xiao Long, the two of you will have little trouble coming away with a multitude of good memories from your time spent together. In my opinion, you're better off focusing on the who's instead of the what's of your next few months. You fought through a war side-by-side, no? It's only fair that you give yourselves the opportunity to relax in a similar manner."

The young huntress took a final sip of her tea before standing up and giving Dr. Shen a slight bow.

"Thank you for your time, doctor."

"Any time, my friend." The elderly engineer answered with a smile. As he watched Blake open the door to head out, a thought occurred to him.

"One more thing, Blake." Shen's guest stopped at the door and turned back to glance at him, "You should make a point of sampling the local tea wherever you end up going. I may have a strong personal affinity for Jasmine, but I only developed that preference after years of learning what the world had to offer. From one tea aficionado to another, I recommend you do the same."

Blake nodded and left Shen's office, gently closing the door behind her before heading off to find Yang. Maybe Japan would be a good choice after all.

* * *

I'm actually quite happy with the length of this one, seeing how these were supposed to be little snippets of interaction between characters. The idea for the subject of this one was given to me by a reviewer, and I think it turned out pretty well. It's an interesting idea to consider, at any rate.

In other news, I've begun to formally organize my thoughts for the sequel to RWBY Within. I haven't written any chapters yet, but it's nice to take all those ideas that are constantly swirling around in my head and start laying out a general timeline. Not gonna lie, things are gonna be pretty crazy for the gang on Remnant. CRAZY, I TELL YOU.


	7. Ozpin's Request

"Sergeant? Letter for you."

Ren looked up from his book and smiled at the technician. He recognized the man as PFC Stoli, one of Dr. Shen's technicians assigned to the Hyperwave Relay, "Oh?"

"Came with the latest batch of supplies from Remnant a few days ago. I was supposed to deliver it to you ASAP, but uh... some other stuff came up that distracted me." Stoli said with a slightly guilty face, "A-anyway, foreman guessed it was from your old pal Ozpin, since the shipping manifest had a note from him that specifically requested the letter be for your eyes only." The tech shrugged and handed the letter to Ren, "Hopefully it's something cool."

"Hopefully." Ren agreed, glancing curiously nodding at the technician, "Thank you, Stoli."

"Don't mention it."

Ren looked at the letter once more, turning it over in his hands as he pondered what Ozpin could possibly want to relay to him (and, apparently, only him). He marked his page in an anthology book regarding ancient theories of the soul and carefully opened the envelope. As Stoli had surmised, it was indeed from Ozpin. Ren could practically feel the calm, confident demeanor of his headmaster as he read the handwritten words on the paper.

 _Hello Ren,_

 _I trust this message finds you well. For the sake of time, I will dispense with the pleasantries and get right to the point. I wish for you to engage in some research regarding the mind and soul._

Ren glanced at the book sitting in his lap with mild amusement. Either Ozpin somehow knew about Ren's fascination with the various theories of the soul in Earth's cultures, or the headmaster just made a lucky guess. Either way, Ren would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by Ozpin's opening.

 _From my conversations with XCOM's Central Officer and Chief Scientist, it appears that unlocking both the psionic potential and aura of an individual results in, shall we say, detrimental side effects. While our own Ruby Rose has demonstrated that these setbacks can be overcome (or so I'm told), Bradford is hesitant to try and look further into the possibilities of developing soldiers capable of drawing from both sources of power. Given that the stakes are incredibly high in this war, I don't exactly blame him. However, I pride myself on my ability to look several steps ahead in any sort of conflict, and I've spent a not-so-insignificant amount of time pondering this issue._

While Ren's first thought was why Ozpin didn't just say 'significant,' he did agree with the headmaster's point. Once she managed to get a handle on her new abilities, Ruby's psionics proved to be quite the valuable asset in the field. The situation wasn't dire enough yet for Bradford to put some of his psionic operatives through the ordeal, but Ren always felt like Captain Durand would be the first to volunteer if the Central Officer ever got around to starting up such a program.

 _I believe that there will come a point in this war where the creation of another such binary soldier will not only be helpful, but perhaps even necessary. While I've expressed this opinion to Bradford already, he does not seem to agree. I respect his right as the head of XCOM's operations to run things as he sees fit, but I am responsible for the safe return of eight hunters-in-training after the war's end. It would be folly to just let Bradford's decision be the end of the conversation. If I am correct, it would be for the best if someone were to start investigating the theory and methodology behind safely unlocking the psionic and auric potential of a practitioner. I believe that the best candidate for this research is you._

And there it was. Even though Ren saw it coming from a mile away, it felt good to know that Ozpin recognized and valued his skill at the study and manipulation of Aura. Still, Ren wondered how Ozpin expected him to carry out this research. While the classical books he'd been reading on the philosophy of the soul were certainly fascinating, the views of Earth's ancient civilizations on the subject didn't exactly compare to the knowledge compiled by Remnant's own studies and experiments.

 _To that end, I've included in this envelope a small attachment of files that you can download to your scroll. It contains some of what I would consider to be the more relevant observations and discoveries made by researchers on Remnant._

Well that answers that.

 _I understand that all of this is simply theory and won't do much good when it comes to actually applying your knowledge in a field situation, but I do not wish to damage the trust that Bradford and I have built up with one another. He has made it clear that binary soldiers are not to be considered at this junction. If we are to respect that choice, then we must be satisfied with the literature available. Given that the scientists on Remnant are unfamiliar with the psionics of Earth, it may be... difficult to find any concrete answers with regards to how the two forces interact. I know, however, that you are resourceful when the situation calls for it, Lie Ren. I trust that you will take this request seriously and find a way to put the knowledge you gain to good use._

 _Best of luck,_

 _O_

Ren looked inside the envelope and pulled out the small data packet Ozpin mentioned. He clipped it to his Scroll and watched as an array of six different files popped up on the device's screen. Two were books while the other four looked more like research papers written by various students and professors from all over Remnant. That sort of regional diversity would come in handy, Ren thought. Similar to the various cultures of Earth, each Kingdom had its own flavor of beliefs when it came to the workings of Aura and the soul. They all agreed on the base facts, but opinions varied somewhat when it came time to fill in the blanks.

While Ren felt that he knew more about Aura than most of his peers, he had never come across any of these books or papers during his studies. He would need to suspend his usual meditation sessions until further notice if he wanted to work through these references at a reasonable rate. At the same time, however, Ren felt excited at the prospect of learning more about theories and views on the workings of Aura.

He almost got up to talk to Dr. Vahlen about his new information until he reminded himself of Ozpin's admonition: this project had to stay with him for now. That detail put a small damper on Ren's spirits. How did Ozpin expect him to make any progress without the opportunity for practical application? Theory _never_ matched up with practice, and Ren was certain Ozpin knew that. If the headmaster wanted him to gain a deeper understanding of the interactions between Aura and psionics, to learn which hypotheses in the papers worked well and which didn't, he needed to see how the two powers really interacted with each other.

"Hmm..." Ren vocalized, which actually caused several heads to turn in his direction. The hunter smiled serenely and returned the curious stares with a friendly wave before returning his focus to the matter at hand. He picked up his things and strode out of the lounge. Even though he decided to put off meditating until those papers were read, he felt that one more session would be useful in determining how to approach his new situation.

"Hey Ren!"

The hunter looked up to see the cheerful face of Ruby smiling back at him.

"Good afternoon, Ruby." Ren answered, maintaining his trademark neutral tone, "Are you off to supervise more simulation training for the upcoming base assaults?"

Ruby shook her head, "Nope. Gonna go visit Annette, actually. She helped work out some of the kinks in my noggin back before the terror attack in St. Louis, so I figured it would be a good idea to see if she could do anymore voodoo magic before it's time to hit the aliens where it hurts."

Almost immediately, the cogs began to turn in Ren's mind. Standing before him was the only test subject available for studying the dual nature of Aura and psionics. While Ren felt slightly dirty (and Vahlen-like) for identifying his friend as a test subject, the fact remained that Ruby was very likely his only opportunity for analyzing the effects of the two power sources interacting with each other. And from what Ruby just told him, Ren now had a perfect cover for observing how his friend's Aura interacts with her psionic ability. He could make notes of his observations, compare them against the literature provided by Ozpin, and determine if there was a way to force the two antagonistic energies to cooperate (at least to some degree).

"If it's not too much trouble, may I join you?" Ren asked, "I know that it can be somewhat painful when Captain Durand tries to... adjust your psionic conduits. Perhaps having someone skilled in the manipulation of Aura could try to keep yours calm while Annette does her work?"

Ruby, initially surprised by Ren's offer, nodded after a moment, "That sounds like a great idea! But... it wouldn't be too much trouble for you, would it? I don't want to assume you have nothing better to do than help me with my Aura problems."

"On the contrary, I can't think of a better use of my time." Ren answered.

"Oh! Well in that case, by all means! I'm sure Annette won't mind."

As the two of them walked towards the psionic labs, Ren felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving Ruby. However, he really did believe that he could help Annette with her efforts to improve Ruby's mental abilities. And if he just happened to collect some useful data on the interactions between Aura and psionics during the process? Well, that would just be a fortunate coincidence.

He just hoped it was worth the trouble.

* * *

A/N: Hey all, I threw this short chapter together real quick for two reasons: first, I wanted to round out my collection of chapters that focus on the "Main Eight" from RWBY and JNPR. Ren had a small role in Nora's chapter, but I felt he deserved his own as well (plus, I always meant to explain what was in that letter that Ozpin sent through the relay).

Second, I wanted to talk about the sequel to RWBY Within. I've already begun the process of writing the first couple of chapters, though I'm also hammering out some of the narrative kinks in my high-level outline. I'm really excited about the story I want to tell, and I hope I'll be able to do it justice. After today's post, I'll probably be quiet for another month or so while I build up a nice pile of content that I can put out at a regular pace. The last few weeks at my current job have taught me that I won't always be able to rely on my evenings for writing (given that I spent 60% of my weekdays in the office until 7-9 pm... startup companies are crazy), so I want to have plenty of chapters ready to go to account for events like that in the future. As requested by multiple readers, I'll be posting a 'heads up' chapter to RWBY Within when I get closer to the sequel's release.

One thing I do want to comment on with regards to the sequel, however, is how it will handle the show's canon. In RWBY Within, I opted to treat RWBY's canon very gently, only mucking with a few things that technically didn't contradict what the show had already established. While I'm very proud of my work, I also agree with some of my readers that RWBY Within felt like an 'XCOM cake with only a few RWBY sprinkles.' So I made a decision early on in my planning for the sequel: y'all better call Flynt, because the canon's about to get _funky_. Again, I'll do my best to avoid contradicting what's been established in the lore, though that won't be too difficult given that not much lore has been established in the first place. But the main reason I've made this decision is because I want the crossover to really feel like a crossover, not just a case of 'X has been transplanted into Y.' I'm really excited about how everything is going to play out, and I hope that you'll all be able to enjoy the weirdness for what it is.

If you have any questions or comments, I'll do my best to answer them via PM in a timely manner. Suggestions are always welcome, though I can't promise that I'll be able to incorporate them into the story. That's... about it, really. Thank you for taking the time to read my work, and I'll see you all in about a month.

Cheers.


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